#i'm stuck on the prompts though sorry bout that

[scienceoftheidiot]

Me : I have to finish chapter 26. It's soon done. Finish chapter 26.

My brain : here is 5K of soft and angsty Havoroy smut. Take it or leave it.

Me : remember you have a havocai prompt to fill? And a havoroyai one too.

My brain: TAKE. THE HAVOROY SMUT.

🤷‍♀️

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[girlsoutlate]

this is my new account, so i'm reposting my 1 piece of work, hope you enjoy!!

readers thoughts are in pink, ever so light implied john price x reader, light questionable behaviour from men (not 141)

thinking about subtle sarcastic reader, especially to the type of man she'd encounter while working in the army. being a civilian and a woman many on base just looked over her, or looked too intensely at certain parts of her. but after months of working she's found her place, she's now respected by those who surround her. but what happens when some higher ups come and visit?

working closely with the 141 was no easy task. going from mundane paperwork to the flurry of action from a mission was difficult for you to handle, let alone helping them. you'd grown closer to them though, no more bouts of shyness stopping you from being yourself. instead you'd grown in to steady workplace banter with all.

unfortunately today couldn't be one of those days as some ever so important higher ups were holding a meeting with the 141, and since you handle the majority of the paperwork you were so graciously invited to attend.

you wished you had a little bit more time to prepare for this. these were important people, who wouldn't be nervous? apart from soap who appeared with a shit-eating grin at your office door, gifting you another surprise meeting. or gaz who could charm any conversation his way a bit too easily, with suave compliments and easy-going humour. don't forget ghost who doesn't even need to look engaged because of his mask, or be expected to speak due to his... unique personality. oh and the captain has been to countless of these meetings, so he can't empathise with you either.

but, one thing you could all agree on is that meetings were incredibly boring. for two reasons mostly. either the attendees were so dense it seemed they hadn't stepped on planet earth before, let alone a military base. or the subject matter was so bland you all wondered why there needed to be a meeting in the first place.

as your heels tapped hastily along the hallway you wondered which it would be. arriving barely on time with a tight clutch on haphazardly organised documents and a cup of coffee you opened the door, and had an inkling it wouldn't be any. you were met with two male voices. one high, clipped and plummy, the other harsh and american.

"-- that's what i expected from someone of her-oh hello! nice to finally meet you" the man at the head of the table said. an older, short and stout man with thin wire-rimmed glasses and a black tailored suit. a typical english man in an authoritative position. "ah, sorry i was late you'll have to excuse me. i thought to bring my extra notes, i hope i didn't make you wait long." you replied. "not at all, my colleague mr sullivan and i were discussing stories from our base". your gaze flicked over to what must be the source of the american voice. perfectly gold hair stuck down with copious amounts of gel, paired with lightly tanned skin and a too white smile didn't make it hard to guess. "civilians eh?" the taller man began "don't know what's up with the ones here, especially the woman we were just talki-"

"right" prices deep gravely voice cut over the grating one "meeting should start we're all 'ere". murmurs of agreement filled the room, and so did glances between the 141 that you didn't pick upon. however you did notice they were unusually quiet though you brushed it off, they were probably tired. "gosh where are my manners" the man at the head of the table exclaimed "my name is mr buckton and i'll be leading this meeting." briskly taking a few steps towards you he shook your hand roughly. being polite you attempted to make eye contact, yet his eyes were still looking straight ahead? lingering only on your chest for a moment he then made eye contact with you, a wide grin crept on his face. "come, your seat is next to mine" he prompted, gesturing you to walk infront of him and take your seat. as you walked infront of him his eyes now travelled further south. a small grimace shared from gaz to soap went undetected by the three sitting at the top of the table. mr buckton at the head, you to his left and then the captain and ghost next to you. opposite was mr sullivan, with gaz then soap next to him. with you all seated the meeting began.

for once the meeting was actually worth being held. despite it not being anything too serious you did well, even with your nerves. you answered questions and expanded in the points of others. as you suggested plans of action mr buckton steadily kept his eyes on you, while mr sullivan constantly scribbled notes down. soon enough the meeting was a breeze. well for about twenty minutes. across from you, mr sullivan was very inquisitive about anything you said. asking you to back it up or to show proof. not thinking much of it you obliged. it was a little odd but you knew your stuff and why not show off infront of higher ups? however the sentiment was not shared with the rest of the 141. who even asked for evidence about evidence? they understood wanting clarification on certain things, but it was growing incessant now. you were capable of your job and they knew that - that's why you were there. price especially helped you in the growing awkwardness; his job had never been so easy with you working underneath him. gaz and soap constantly gave eachother questioning glances, not wanting to explicitly speak up if their captain didn't. ghost was pissed he couldn't hide his eyes rolling as well as his scowl behind his balaclava. although they were growing increasingly annoyed the meeting continued, with more ridiculous questions being asked. professionalism was continued with a grim expression for another twenty minutes or so. hardly.

until mr sullivan basically dislocated his back by stretching in his chair with an exaggerated yawn leaving his cavernous mouth. "thought you woulda brought coffee since you kept us waiting for so long, cant believe you didn't make me some fresh". with beady eyes on you he smiled lazily. oh he has to be joking you thought to yourself there's no way this guy is real. play them at their own game. "why would i make more? i've already got some for myself" you smiled sickly back at him back, one that gaz has used on you many times when he's late giving you a report.

the table fell unusually silent again, and that's when you noticed it. the crackling of unease filling the air. sharp eyes from the 141 darted from eachother to you, to mr sullivan and back again.

"don't be so mean, i'm literally a dying man" he snarkily replied, eyeing you coolly. "one can hope" ghost muttered under his breath.

"i have urgent needs that need to be taken care of, won't you help?". mr sullivan continued, a slimy smile displayed as he noted the effect his badly hidden innuendo had on you. you felt your cheeks warm. he smirked at this, finally affecting you after bugging you the whole bloody meeting. fuck impressing him he's an arsehole.

"well, i'm sure you'll be alright by yourself. seems it happens a lot." you said back, indifferent. as soon as that left your mouth a strange sharp bark that hastily turned in to a cough came from soap. all heads from the table whipped to look at him. "pardon me" he shakily said, quickly taking a sip of his drink, watery eyes not straying from the blank wall above ghosts head.

"let's get back on track hmm?" mr buckton suggested "so cheeky, must be that time of the month". he turned to you with an eyebrow raised with an impish grin.

what. what the actual fuck. not only was this unprofessional, but who even though if that? let alone say it out loud.

price coughed uncomfortably and turned away. gaz and ghost looked at eachother in disbelief. and soap was finding that wall even more interesting. surely it could not get any worse.

"oh you all know what women are like, don't pretend. especially when they're frustrated" mr buckton let out a giggle "you know from work". you actually spluttered, eyes wide with disbelief. the feeling of unease in the air was now a full jolt of electricity. just as you felt price boiling with anger you leaned forwards to mr buckton. if everyone on the table wasn't watching you, they certainly were now.

"tell me" you said. mr buckton looked at you shocked, mouth gaping open. "tell me what women are like. you know i've been so airheaded this last week i hardly know my left from my right!". just to amp it up a little you slowly crossed your arms just underneath your chest, accentuating it. "you've explained so much to me this meeting surely you could explain this?"

the 141's eyes grew to the size of saucers, there's no way these two would actually fall for this? right? at this point mr bucktons and mr sullivans jaws were practically falling off. the latter was sadly the quickest to start talking 'so, when women start-". a smart rap in the door interrupted. a male voice said seriously

"emergency call for you mr buckton".

"oh, oh you must excuse us. i have to end this meeting" mr buckton declared "i simply cant miss this". messily shuffling their papers together both men swiftly said their goodbyes to you all. with that they just about made it out the door without tripping over their own legs.

a second passed after the door banged shut before gaz burst out in howls of laughter, clutching his ribs, soon joined by soap who could barely look at the wall for any longer. ghost stared at the door muttering who knows what under his breath and the captain sat there with his gaze fixated on the table mortified. he turned his head to you apologising profusely and asking if you're okay.

you just nodded vaguely and replied "men"

all likes, reblogs and comments are so appreciated!! this is my first time writing something properly so i hope you enjoyed it

[rogueddie]

Thinkin Bout You T | 1,061 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy

Even though he can admit that it's a selfish desire, Eddie still wants to use Steve's pool. He'd thought that, after finally defeating Vecna and saving Max, they could use it as an excuse to have some sort of party.

He's always wanted to go to one of Steves infamous, exclusive pool parties.

"No," Steve immediately snapped, when Eddie brought it up. It was the first time Eddie had ever really heard him angry. "No one goes in the pool. No one- just, stay away from it. It's off limits. That's it."

He'd been confused, but accepted his answer. It didn't matter what he wanted, it clearly made Steve uncomfortable. It wasn't his place to challenge those boundaries.

... but it did make him curious.

At first, he tried to figure it out on his own. Or, more accurately, tried to gauge how Steve fully and truly felt about the pool.

Steve avoided the thing like it would bite him if he looked at it too long. He always steered conversations away from it, or swimming in general, too.

"I'm worried," Eddie admitted, when he finally gave in and turned to Robin. "He can't keep avoiding pools forever."

"It's not pools," Robin says, reluctantly. "It's his pool, specifically. You'll have to ask him, but... you'd get it. If you knew why."

But the only answer he got from Steve was vague, something about Nancy and bad memories.

"I don't want to know what happened," Eddie starts, worming past Nancy as soon as she opens the door. "I only need to know if redecorating the pool might help. Like, if it's bad memories tied to it then spicing it up so it looks different... that'll help, right?"

Nancy stares at him for a moment, needing a moment to catch up.

"We are talking about Steve?" She finally asks.

"Yeah!"

"Right... um... redecorating..." She looks off to the side, frowning in thought. "It might help. He probably won't want to get in himself, no matter what, but... yeah, changing it up might make him more comfortable with it in general."

"Great! I don't know how to redecorate a pool."

Nancy rolls her eyes.

But she jumps into action. She calls Robin, Jonathan and Argyle, gathering them together so they can brainstorm ideas.

It's Jonathan who suggests they try and make it more kid friendly. Argyle is the one who collects pool decals, agreeing on placing them too. Robin insists on being the one to chose the colors with Nancy's help.

Eddie gets stuck with collecting floats and toys, making a mental list of what they could get.

With their hush money, they're able to put aside a decent amount of money for the budget. They're definitely going to be able to completely change that pool.

Getting the kids to agree to distract Steve for the entire day is too easy. They don't even ask why.

Steve calls Robins less than half an hour after they call the kids, pleading and whining about the kids plan. He tries to get her to come up with some excuse to get him out of it.

"Sorry," Robin says, wincing. "Need to stay home with mom. Sounds serious."

It takes another half an hour until Lucas is able to radio them, giving them the all clear.

Sneaking round to Steve's pool feels strange. Mostly thanks to how casual it is, how calm the others look despite the fact that they're technically breaking in.

"We're not breaking in," Nancy points out. "We have keys. He said we can come over whenever we want. We're welcome."

"Hey," Jonathan says, snapping his fingers to get their attention. "Come on, we have a lot to do."

And it is a lot.

Working together, they're able to get through the worst of it pretty fast. It's impossible to rush it all though, having to wait for paint to dry or glue to stick.

They've barely sat down, finally finishing everything, when Steve gets back with the kids.

"Woah, this is amazing!" Dustin says, grinning wide, the first to burst out the back doors.

"Holy shit," Mike says, next out. "How did you do all this in that time?"

"What are you guys yelling about?" Steve asks, voice distant.

The kids scramble out of the way, watching the door for Steve, excited.

"Where have you- oh."

He freezes in the doorway, eyes darting around the garden.

"Surprise!" Robin yells, jumping over to him. "You like it?"

"How did you..."

"It was easy," Nancy says, reassuring.

"Eddie noticed that you hate the pool," Robin adds. "He suggested we redecorate. Change it up. Make it something new."

Steve looks between them all, face blank.

"Steve?" Eddie says, shifting nervously.

"Thank you," Steve says. "It's... thank you."

"Does this mean we can use your pool now?" Mike asks.

Steve laughs, though it sounds slightly choked. "Yeah," he says, shaking his head. "Sure, whatever, let's have a pool party."

The kids cheer, rushing off to get changed. The others follow after them slower, leaving Steve and Eddie alone.

"This was your idea?" Steve asks.

"Kinda? We all worked together to actually... do it. I only suggested we do something. Nancy's the brains behind it all, really. And Argyle."

"Still, you thought to do all... this."

"I guess."

"Thank you, Ed."

"Oh, nah, don't. It was motivated entirely by, like... greed."

Steve snorts, disbelieving.

"It was! You never let us use the pool."

"You wouldn't need to redecorate this much to do that."

"That... yeah, I would," Eddie winces at how his voice cracks. "You're overprotective."

"Eds," Steve grabs his hand, finally drawing his attention to how they've drifted to each other. "Just accept the thank you, alright?"

Eddie glances at their hands, half expecting Steve to pull away. But, despite the flush in his cheeks, he keeps a tight hold.

"Alright," Eddie finally says. "You're welcome?"

"Great," Steve tugs at his hand, keeping ahold of him as he drags them to the house. "I have spare swim shorts that you can borrow."

"You sure they won't be too big?"

Steve glances back, just in time to catch Eddie's eyes drifting down. He laughs bumping his shoulder into Eddie's.

"Perv."

"You love it," Eddie teases, expecting Steve to take it ask a joke.

But he smiles, soft and genuine, squeezing Eddie's hand as he says, "I really do."

[auratusaria]

Prompt No. 33

"Hey Roommate, have you seen--" Civilian absentmindedly opened the door of their roommate's room. They were greeted with the sight of a wide-eyed Villain halfway into changing out of his costume. "Oh, sorry. I'll ask later."

Just as Civilian was about to close the door again, Villain yelled.

"HUH?! WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP!"

Civilian did just that, their hand still on the doorknob as they stared at their roommate with a slightly tilted head.

"You aren't surprised?"

"I'd love to say I already knew for cool points but I didn't. I was just expecting it."

Villain deeply furrowed his eyebrows, "What does that mean???"

Civilian raised a finger, "I once had Supervillain as my roommate, pretty cool guy. She gave me free food sometimes." They raised another finger, "Had a vampire roommate too, just as cool, tries his best to keep quiet at night." Another finger, "Had a werewolf roommate as well, too rowdy for me but they were great too." And another, "Had Superhero as a roommate before, not as cool as Supervillain, I still wonder to this day if she was ever able to confess to her."

Civilian thought for a bit before raising another finger, "Hmm... I think I had a demon roommate once but not sure bout it. Maybe, he made tasty sandwiches though."

Silence blanketed the room as all Villain could do was blink and stare.

"...How are you still alive...?"

"Probably poured all my life stats on luck and nothing else so I'm stuck with a minimum wage job at retail with zero fucks to give."

"Fair enough."

[judasgot-it]

Hey! I Hope You’re doing well, I just wanted to request a prompt real quick!! :)

If it’s not too much of an issue, can you do Ango when he gets home to his s/o after a really rough and long day, and reader just offers comfort to him, making sure he’s alright and he ends up crying.

If you don’t think this is a really good idea you can disregard it, anyways, thank you and have a good day/night! <3

DW if you think your idea isn't 'good' - this is an x reader blog, this is the writing equivalent of going to wafflehouse at 3 am and being served by a raccoon. There are no bad ideas here <3.

But back on that angst GRIND sorry bout the late response btw I was traveling and then I had college but >_<

Scenario: Comforting Ango after a long day at work. TW: Men crying, Dark era

Ango felt his eyes burn in his sockets from exhaustion. His neck strained to keep his head up as he stared ahead at the screen.

This was his usual if anyone asked.

He was one of the best there was. He had memorized almost every file he had come across - it was frightening, considering he only needed it for a moment. He could work like a machine.

But it had to eventually catch up with him.

He wasn't ready to stop working. He could type with his eyes closed - which he was currently doing so they could rest, if just for a second.

When the next thing he'd known, he was there. There.

The smoke, the heat on his skin. There was a voice he knew but couldn't make out the face of.

Someone was shaking him, vaguely he was aware that it was a dream but he couldn't open his eyes. He felt completely frozen.

Ango was stuck.

There was a man telling him that he had trust in him, with brown hair and blue eyes - older than he should have. Ango remembered him looking like a child.

He missed how he smiled like one - here, he was only able to give him a small tilt of the lips. He trusted Ango though, clearly, from how close he was. Burning.

The shaking had gotten rougher, there was a voice he couldn't place. A young woman who didn't belong in a bombing, who wasn't there at the bar.

Ango knew she didn't belong there. Her hand shook his shoulder, which rocked the glasses that sat on the bar.

He was back at Lupin's.

The man from the bombing wasn't there. He was supposed to be - a seat was there for him, with a drink he knew he loved. Whiskey, with ice that was melting too quickly.

But instead it was Ango, alone -

, and Dazai.

Dazai was saying something, angry at him.

He remembers how his face had twisted so horribly that day. Like out of a horror movie he had watched you once -

But Dazai wasn't saying the words he had said.

It was that woman's voice.

The next thing he knew, he was up.

He had stepped into reality, seeing a young woman staring at him, rather concerned.

She wasn't Dazai.

She was staring at him, blinking at him with large, doe-like eyes.

Her long dark hair was in a neat bun, and her clothes were actually appropriate for the government building they were in.

A normal person. Who for some reason was waking him up, concerned about him right now.

"Ango. You need to leave, there's a fire evacuation right now."

Oh.

He never registered that noise until now.

That wasn't the bomb.

Just a fire alarm.

Ango rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling how his eyes were wet. Was he crying? His hand pulled away days worth of dead skin on his oily skin.

He needed a shower.

"Ango."

"I know, I know. I'm leaving. I think -"

Ango stood up, his vision spotting as he stared around the room. It was nearly empty, with his computers and the damn ringing surrounding the two of them.

"I think I'm gonna go home right now."

"What?"

The intern looked at him, trying to hide how baffled she was. This was most likely the first time he has voluntarily left his desk since she had started working there. This would be shocking for her.

"Just let everyone else deal with it. Don't worry."

"Oh. Well um. Have a good day, then?"

Ango stared past her, his walk down the hallway was aimless. Automatic. He knew the way, but only through muscle memory.

"Yeah. I hope you do as well."

That's the response he knew he should give. But he could barely croak it out of his throat.

Really, he just wanted to scream. Maybe cry. Something more than the monotone feeling he was locked in.

-

The ringing never left his ears. Tinnitus had never left him, which didn't do him good as he walked alone. Even as he stepped into his empty apartment, all he could focus on was the high-pitched wail - like a radio he could never shut off.

It was thanks to gunshots, which he really hadn't had the luxury of hearing in years.

He hadn't held one properly in a while. There wasn't a real need for him to shoot when he was good at his job. It was cushy compared to what he did in the past.

But today felt like years ago.

"Hey."

Ango wouldn't admit that he jumped at hearing your voice from behind him.

Your arms were happy to hold him, your face burying itself into his shoulder. He forgot how cold he was.

"You're home early."

Ango nodded, staring down at his feet as he toed off his shoes. He didn't want to think anymore, not as his face felt a little too hot.

Your hands reached up, pulled at the fabric around his chest.

"Did you decide to finally give yourself a break for a change?"

Your breath was right against the shell of his ear, making it burn.

"Yeah. I guess I did."

He turned around, looking at you. He tried to smile from behind his spectacles, covered in so many smudges he forgot how to see clearly.

Ango could still see your eyes.

"Do I look that miserable?"

He gave a weak laugh, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You look awful. When was it the last time you slept?"

"I can't remember. Doesn't matter now, does it?"

You shook your head, holding onto his waist firmly.

"No. I think it does. To me it does."

Ango nodded along. A part of him didn't believe you.

That part was burning him alive from the inside, threatening to spill over from his eyes. His throat felt tight, making him eat his dry tongue.

"Let's lay down."

He followed you like a doll. He let you drag him to your shared bedroom, coddling his head to your chest like a prized stuffed toy. To the best of your ability to encircled your body around him, your legs warming up his cold skin.

You took off his glasses, putting them to the side. Gently you tugged your thumbs along his skin, gently massaging his brow bone and the wrinkles you could see slowly forming.

"I love you."

To you it was lighthearted, your voice light as you were more focused on curling your fingers along his hair.

To Ango, those words allowed him to curl into you fully, his face burying into your chest - and despite him trying to stop them, he felt his face get wet and hot with tears, his throat stuttering as noise desperately tried to come out of him.

He was burning.

His scalp was burning as you ran your nails along it. His skin burned as his clothes felt tight and rough in the wrong places.

Somewhere his chest burned, as he held in his sobs. Bile wanted to come up from how hard he held them in, nearly convulsing with the force of them.

He felt you lean down, kissing his forehead.

"You can cry, you know? You're safe here."

Ango forced himself to take a deep breath in before he muffled his scream in your shoulder.

Ango let himself burn, just for a little while.

He was here, and not there.

He had to tell himself that as he forgot the sound of his own voice.

Guess who's back babyyyy >_> anyway I kinda experimented here hope it was jarring I feel like I write a lot of intimacy but no action and such so I wanted to try some variation so excuse it if it's rough, I've never written a dream sequence before

[bunysliper]

what do you think would have happened if castle had gotten stuck in the AU?

Hi Anon! I hope you're still out there and that this was meant as a prompt (not that I'm not ashamed of how long it took to answer it if it was) and not just a question/discussion starter. Basically, I kind of wrote what I think the answer would be, so I hope you like this!

Hope Yet

He's ashamed of the disappointment that floods his belly when he wakes in a hospital to a dark-haired version of his daughter. It's not that he's unhappy to see Alexis – any version of her – but he'd hoped that he might wake right where he left, on a dingy floor dodging gunfire with Kate a little bit peeved at him for touching something he shouldn't have. Instead, he's… still here. Still in this world where he has miles to go to repair a relationship with his little girl, his mother still has almost complete control over his house because he'd been a schmuck with his money, and Kate – Kate is apathetic about him at best; miles and miles from loving him.

He'd been so sure he would be going home.

"Hi Daddy," Alexis breathes, stroking his hair off his forehead. "I was so worried."

Rick Castle hopes the grimace can be written off as pain from his injuries. "Hi, 'lexis. Sorry, 'bout that."

He licks his lips, looking around the room for anything that he might be able to drink to get the rough cardboard taste out of his mouth.

Alexis comes through for him once again, holding a small cup with a straw to his lips. "Slow sips. You were intubated and your throat might be sore."

He tries not to gulp it down, savoring the water for a moment before Alexis takes the cup away.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asks, leaning on her elbow beside him. He opens his mouth, but she continues first, "Dad, you were shot. What were you even doing that you would get shot?"

He exhales, feeling the tug of new wounds on his chest. "I was-"

"He was protecting me."

Alexis jolts upright, turning to the door.

Rick would be lying if he said he didn't jump a little as well. If his heart didn't speed up at her voice, husky with emotion and a lack of sleep. He doesn't know this her, but he knows her. At the heart of her, he knows Kate Beckett.

"Would do it all over again," he says, hoping to catch her eyes.

She avoids his gaze, looking at Alexis instead, but he sees her fingers twitch before she clenches her fists and releases them. He knows that move, recognizes it as her taking a moment to ground herself before she gives someone bad news.

"I am so sorry, Ms. Castle. I'm Captain Beckett, with the NYPD. Your father got involved in a case my detectives were working and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He made a call to do something incredibly stupid, but very brave, to save my life."

She turns to him, her eyes bloodshot and tired, but flinty and determined all the same. "I can assure you that he won't be put in that position again. Ever."

Castle swallows hard, wishing he could reach for her as well as the water Alexis had given him a few minutes ago. He gets neither, though, because Beckett takes a step back.

"I'm not staying," Beckett adds, licking her lips. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," he rasps. "Or Castle, if you want. Whatever you want, Beckett."

At his bedside, Alexis rolls her eyes. "Please forgive him, Captain Beckett. He's-"

Kate waves her off. "It's okay. I understand. The painkillers do strange things to everyone."

Still, she offers him a look he should be able to read, given how well he knows her counterpart. It's part-quizzical, part-amused, at least enough to cause her lips to lift at the corners.

"Stay out of trouble from here on out, Mr. Castle. Please?"

 He nods quickly, even as he croaks an impish, "No promises."

Beside him, Alexis rolls her eyes. "I'll keep him in line, Captain. Don't worry."

This time, Beckett does crack a small smile. "I'm sure you will, Ms. Castle. I'm sure you will." She licks her lips, lowering her chin. "I'll leave you to rest."

Rick starts to call her back, to insist she doesn't have to leave and she's as welcome as his child and his mother (who, he supposes must be at work at this point, after all, her show opens in – well, probably now, if he's been out that long), but he can't make the words come. This Kate Beckett doesn't know him, and as much as he wants to believe otherwise, he doesn't know her either. He can't expect her to feel at home with him and his family the way the woman he loves does.

"Thank you for visiting," he says instead. "I'm glad you're okay; that was… that was all I wanted to do."

She hesitates for a moment before dropping her hand to cover his. "I know, Castle. Thank you."

Her touch disappears a moment later and she retreats from his hospital room, leaving him to begin to accept that this might just be the rest of his life.

Just two days later, while Alexis is at home retrieving some of his clothing for him to change into when he's allowed to get cleaned up, she returns with a case file in hand and an annoyed, but somehow fond, look on her face.

"If you're feeling up to it," she starts, licking her lips and shifting her weight on those impossibly high heels of hers, "I wouldn't mind having another pair of eyes to check this out; you and my victim apparently run in the same circles."

Rick Castle moves his hospital bed a little more upright, clasping his hands together and grinning. He tries not to look too eager, of course, since he doesn't want to scare her off when she's coming to him – when she needs, nay wants, his help, but he's all in already.

"I'd be delighted, Captain. Lay it on me."

Beckett hesitates for just a moment before crossing the room and holding out the file to him, perching on his bed at his hip and waiting for him to speed read (less speedy than usual thanks to the meds, but he manages) the casefile and offer his thoughts.

It looks like there's hope yet.

[darkluminosity]

Writemas: Day 11 (323 words)

Wrote this right after a 4-hour “nap” – yes, I’m calling my bouts of sleep “naps” now, because apparently I can't get proper sleep anymore. 😭

This has been the shortest piece I’ve ever written, and probably the quickest, but man, this is so much fun.

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist of updates from me - or if you'd like to join in, click this link!

Taglist: @agirlandherquill (tysm for this again, I'm loving these prompts)

(Also, I’m so sorry Eula. Please don't take vengeance on me. 🫣 I blame the prompts! lol)

Prompts Used:

A nightmare

A battlefield

The drowning of loneliness

No… NO!

The words failed to leave her mouth. Eula watched helplessly as the Abyss Herald summoned a pair of large wolves, surrounded by surges of Electro energy. She recalled seeing them before near Wolvendom, but had been too far away to fight them, because they had disappeared by the time she had arrived on the scene.

This time, she saw two rifts open where they had appeared, closing just as suddenly behind them.

All of the people she cared about were huddled in a circle, back to back, in a defensive stance. What terrified her the most though, was that they were completely and utterly defenseless. No weapons, no Visions…

The Abyss Herald released a menacing laugh into the dead of night, sending chills down her spine.

Eyes brimming with tears, Eula tried to stand but found she was frozen in place. Every part of her felt stuck, causing her to panic.

The Abyss Herald turned his head slightly toward her, as though acknowledging her presence.

“Yes… there's nothing you can do for them. How does that make you feel, knowing that they're all going to die because of you?”

She glared at him, hoping that looks could kill him right where he stood. Instead, he laughed and turned back once again toward the helpless crowd.

What she saw next broke her heart and made her feel completely alone and helpless. Every face had turned toward her simultaneously, expressions appearing to say what she felt inside–

“Why can't you save us?”

Eula’s body surged with anger, wanting to defend them, but it was no use– she remained frozen to the spot.

She wished that she had really let them know how she felt… that she really cared about them. She had appreciated their support and acts of kindness. She could even admit to herself that she had developed feelings of affection and love for some of them.

Now she would never get that chance.

[gamma-gal-24]

Hey shawty 😏

Hooooow abouuutttt 💗 from the kiss prompts for tank or Bradley 👀

You're welcome 💜✨️

AHHHHHH I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG- I COULDN'T DECIDE BETWEEN MY BABIES!!😭💞 Ended up going with Tank for this one since Bradley got the spotlight for the last one. And let's face it, poor sweet Tank doesn't get NEARLY enough attention!❤❤❤ So, without further ado, here is the long awaited fluff! ^^

TANK x STELLA Kiss drabble ask~

💗: Slow kiss/ Gentle kiss/ inevitable/ soft

It had been such a long, busy week.

   The X-Games Qualifier, big exams, extra hours at work- Anything that could have prevented Tank and Stella from seeing each other ended up piled on them all at once. Needless to say, they felt just a teensy bit depraved. And Tank’s bad mood made it all the more obvious to everyone around him.

   “Tank, buddy, if your face looked any pissier I’d have to call a janitor.” Bradley teased, half-grinning. The two boys marched on through the crowded hallways, finally free from their last class until tomorrow. Usually, such a break was something they looked forward to, but Tank wasn’t in the mood. The only thing he wanted was busy at work- pouring coffee for pretentious hipsters at the diner down the road. All he cared about was seeing his Stella.

   “Sorry, Bradley… I was just thinkin’ bout-” He was cut off there, his friend raising a hand to silence him. Brad had that sly, all-knowing grin he wore so often. In this instance, it only made Tank’s frown deepen. “Yeah, I know, you’re thinking about your little girlfriend. Why don’t you just go pick her up? Take her out or something. Anything but sit around pouting another day.” Bradley chuckled, his stride quickening ever so slightly. 

   Tank huffed, a sound likened to a bulldog snorting. “If I could I would, but Stella’s been filling in for this chick at work… She’s been stuck there all week. She barely had time to watch the qualifier the other day.” He gave another pitiful look, his own words making him feel all the more lonely. “ I miss her, man.”

   Bradley’s smirk softened to a smile. Never had he ever seen big, tough Tank this down. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit like a big brother, an experience he was never allowed in reality. “Aww, your poor thing!~” He jeered, lightly patting the bigger man on the back, earning him another grouchy look. “Look, just go up to the diner and see her for a little while! Order a coffee and ask her when she gets off! It’s not that hard. Just for the love of all things holy, quit moping.”     At last, a laugh was drawn from the gruff skateboarder. Liking the ideas he was being given and feeling a bit more like himself, he gave Bradley what was supposed to be a light slap on the back. Said boy yelped as he was suddenly pushed forward, almost losing his balance in an attempt to keep from kissing the floor. 

   “Yeah, I can do that! Thanks man, I’ll see ya later.” Tank grinned, slipping past and away, leaving his friend to dust himself off and glare daggers at his back.

   Half shoving his way through the throngs of students and professors, Tank made his way out the university building. If he kept a decent pace, he could walk to the diner in about half an hour. That wouldn’t be so bad. He’d waited all week, what was another thirty minutes? Now if only he had his skateboard with him, then he could probably cut it down to ten- if he ran into a couple pedestrians. Stella wouldn’t be happy about that though. He chuckled to himself at the thought of her scolding him. He could just picture her little arms crossing over her chest, her face trying and failing to look stern as she’d look up nearly a foot and a half to meet his eyes. ‘What a little Squirt-’ He thought fondly.

   With his destination in mind and his heart set on seeing her more than ever, Tank set off to go see his girl. All the way there he imagined the smile she’d give him when he’d arrive- giddy and giggly as ever. Golly how she could giggle. Seemed like that was half of her language some days. But Tank didn’t mind. On the contrary- that chirpy, bubbly sound had become one of his favorite things. Nothing made him feel like more of a man than getting that girl to laugh for him. It just made him feel all warm and mushy inside. Oh and that voice- As much as she told him she loved his deep rumble, he absolutely adored her high, yippy drawl. Just hearing her talk made him smile.

   Just thinking about her talking made him smile now. 

   The half hour walk went quickly with his mind wandering the way it had. Before he knew it, his sneakers had stopped just outside Stella’s workplace. The sidewalk outside was covered in chalk doodles, inviting people to stay or to try the new flavors of pie. Tank snorted back a chuckle, knowing exactly who had been tasked with creating such advertisements. Messing around with chalk was one of Stella’s favorite things to do when the weather was nice.

   He took one last moment to run a large hand through his thick, ginger hair before stepping inside. It didn’t do a thing to make it less messy, but he didn’t know or care in the slightest. Tank was many things, but vain wasn’t one of them. He cared very little about the way he- or anybody else for that matter- looked. All he cared about in that very moment was picking his girlfriend out of the crowd.

   And that he did.

   Tucked away beside a little corner booth was his Stella, notepad in hand as she took one of her regular’s order. That big big heart in Tank’s big big chest gave a little lurch at the sight of her. Her orangey-pink hair was falling out of it’s loose bun- a product of a long day’s work- and her apron was stained beyond cleaning. Not that Tank minded. If anything, he liked seeing her all mussed and messy. It made her seem just a little more real. 

   Considering his size compared to everybody else in the diner, Tank stood out just a little too much for him to go unnoticed for very long. After just a moment, Stella had spotted him by the door. Just as he’d imagined, she lit up like a little Christmas tree as soon as she saw him. All of a sudden her job was put on hold. The only thing she cared about was giving her loverboy a hug. 

   “Tank! What are you doing here, silly boy! I thought you had classes until four today!” She giggled, throwing her arms as far around him as she could, her face resting just under his pecs. The size difference was comical to anyone watching. Tank was quick to scoop her up and crush her in an embrace, his perfect boom of a laugh almost echoing off the diner walls. “I DID, Sweetheart- It’s like five o’clock now!”

   “What?!” Stella shrieked suddenly, peeling away to look him in the face. “That can’t be right! I was supposed to be off at four thirty! Why did nobody tell me?” Tank’s dark eyes went wide, surprised and mildly peeved for poor Stella’s sake. “That’s a good question-” He shot a dirty glance to the owner standing behind the counter. Suddenly Mr. Clancy had other places to be, quickly scurrying off like a rat to avoid Tank’s glare. Tank scoffed, shaking his head. Oh how he hated cowards like that.

   “C’mon, Doll. I don’t think anybody will mind if you head out now that the boss man ain’t starin’ ya down. You don’ have to be here any longer.” He said, setting Stella back on her feet and ruffling her messy, frizzy hair. That earned him one of those laughs he liked so much. “I like that plan. I’ve been here since six this morning; I’m beat!”

  Chuckling, Tank leaned down and brushed her bangs off to the side, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. There were very few things that Tank did with such care. Gentle typically wasn’t ever a word used to describe him. But for his Stella, he’d do his very best.

   Lucky for him, that was all she could ever ask for.

   So, without even a glance back, the smiling couple left the diner hand in hand. They didn’t know where they were headed and frankly neither one cared. They got to spend time together at long last, and that was all that mattered.

[enbyhoshi]

ao3 wrapped 2022

i tried doing this on twt and i accidentally closed the tab and i lost all of it so. tumblr it is!

before i start: i wrote 7 fics in 2022 (total of 72.5k words), 5 of which were posted during the first half of the year. at one point i was writing 3 fics at the same time which was Insane and i still can't believe i managed to finish all 3 of them in time. wow. anyways let's dive into it!

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1. sweet like honey

fem soonwoo, 21k, M, 3/4 of the 'girls like girls (like boys do)' series

my girls.... i miss writing them so much. i truly wasn't planning on letting this fic spiral into the 21k words monster that it came out to - it was supposed to just be the scene where ww calls sy her gf (D-364) - but i don't regret it at all! they deserved their happy ending considering the angst i put them through lol. this was also the first time i wrote smut and it was an Experience

favorite part:

Someone calls Wonwoo’s name and they both come back to reality, turning back to their friends when Soonyoung realises two things, almost at the same time: 1) Minghao and Wonwoo don’t know each other, and 2) none of their friends know about what happened last night. None of them know about Soonyoung and Wonwoo, whatever they are — oh, hey, another thing to add on to the list of realisations kwon Soonyoung has at a busy dance hall post-performance: 3) she hasn’t asked Wonwoo to be her girlfriend yet.

2. baby, be my weekend

soonwoo, 22k, M, idol!wonwoo bodyguard!hoshi

el called this one of my best works in their comment and it has stuck with me since i read it. i had so much writing this fic i truly loved it so much!!! i also didn't expect the amount of love and attention it got ksdjghsdk i just wrote a silly little prompt me and my friend came up with! wow. sorry i don't have a lot to say for this if i loved it less i'd be able to talk about it more etc etc

favorite part:

The noise is getting louder though, heavy like someone is continuously stomping, and it sounds like it’s coming from- “Wonwoo!” He freezes in his tracks. He knows that voice. “Wonwoo! Wait!” It feels like it’s happening in slow motion: Wonwoo turns around, his heart at his throat, only to see Soonyoung running out of his apartment building still in the same clothes as ten minutes ago, getting drenched as he does. It doesn’t deter him from running towards Wonwoo, though, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s happening until Soonyoung grabs his face and kisses him harder than he ever has, pouring every single bit of his emotions into it. Wonwoo can’t do anything but kiss him back, pulling him as close as he can, wanting to feel nothing but Soonyoung’s body on his.

3. 노래해 (‘bout you)

fem soonhoon, 3k, G, university au i guess

GIRLS!!!!! this fic was so spontaneous i was thinking about how there's literally no fem soonhoon fics so i decided to take matters into my own hands hehe. i truly wrote this in two days just in time for pride month which is insane considering i was writing both my 1d fest fic AND my 96z fest fic at that time. what was i thinking.

favorite part:

“Remember that time when Jihoon-unnie talked about anime for six hours straight?” Seokmin says, lifting her head up from Seungkwan’s lap. “That’s probably the most I’ve heard her talk in one sitting.” “I was doing a ranking,” Jihoon says in an attempt to defend herself. “That no one asked you to do, by the way,” Seungkwan says. “You’re lucky Wonwoo-unnie and Jisoo-unnie are just as big weebs as you are.” “Uh, who’s the one between us who started playing volleyball just because of Haikyuu?” Jisoo raises her eyebrow at Seungkwan, who shuts her mouth and goes back to braiding Seokmin’s hair. “That’s what I thought.” Jisoo says, satisfied, and goes back to her bracelet.

4. still feel the same (and you will too)

soonwoo (+ others), 10k, G, wedding au

my 1d fest fic! probably my favorite fic i've written this year. i have a soft spot for kid fics and i have always wanted to write one so i'm so happy i got to fulfill that with this fest! i hadn't written babies before so i did a looot of research to make it as realistic as possible and it seems to have paid off lol. i still remember crying when i wrote the ceremony part (I’d marry you again if I could. I’d do it all over again. Just for you.) and the part where soonwoo dance (He looks at thirty-year-old Wonwoo now, older and wiser and the father of his child, the love of his life — and he thinks about how he doesn’t regret saying yes, not one bit.) also rule 63 is just so fun hehe

favorite part (i already mentioned my favs so i chose a different one lol):

“You say that but it’s gonna pass in the blink of an eye.” Soonyoung says. “One day you’re scrolling through the baby-cribs section at IKEA and the next you’re holding a whole newborn in your arms. Crazy how life works sometimes.” Minghao blinks at him. “Please tell me you didn’t get Byeol’s baby-crib from IKEA.” “I talked him out of it, don’t worry.” Wonwoo reassures her. Minghao lets out a heavy sigh of relief.

5. knock, knock, knock on my door

96z, 10k, T, uh. first time meeting?? strangers to lovers??? idk

my 96z fest fic! this fic went through a lot LOL. i changed the plot a million times because i was unsatisfied with it each time and at some point considered making it two parts so the Big Reveal would be a different chapter but it just didn't feel right. also i only considered it because i wasn't sure if i was gonna finish the fic in time LMAO. this fic is yet another self indulgent fic because like hoshi i have friends but none of them know each other and it makes bday plans so much harder... if only they could fall in love with each other and make it easier for me

favorite part:

“What are you thinking about?” What isn’t he thinking about. Their entire conversation. Jihoon’s words. Junhui’s words. Junhui’s smile and the way his entire face lights up with it. The way Jihoon starts blushing from his ears. Soonyoung kissing them goodnight. Soonyoung’s glossy eyes when Wonwoo sang for him at karaoke. He blurts out before he can think too much about it. “I like you.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and stares at him like he’s dumb. “I know. I like you too, Wonwoo-yah.” he says, easy as ever. “No, you don’t understand- I like you.” Wonwoo insists. “Like, I’m in love with you, I think.” Soonyoung continues to stare at him like he’s dumb. “I know. I like you too, Wonwoo-yah.” he says again.

6. pink where it's deepest inside

fem soonwoo, 3.5k, E, t4t pwp (also 4/4 of the 'girls like girls (like boys do)' series)

oooh boy. originally i started writing this right after i posted sweet like honey but i never finished it because i was too embarassed dfghdfg. right after i posted my 96z fic i fell into deep writer's block and i couldn't write ANYTHING but i knew i wanted to do smth special for the anniversary of this series and i thought well. might as well finish this i guess. huge thank you to el for betaing if it weren't for her this would've never seen the light of day god bless

favorite part:

Unable to wait any longer, she pushes Wonwoo off her a bit to take off her skirt and underwear when Wonwoo’s hands stop her. “Wait,” she says, looking into Soonyoung’s eyes, bashful all the sudden. “Keep the skirt on for me... please?” Well. What is Soonyoung supposed to do? Say no?

7. from luck to fate

soonwoo, 1k, G, pre-slash from the bodyguard au

i wrote this as a writing exercise to kind of get out of my writer's block for a bit and it turned out better than i expected so i was like you know what. i'll post it! i kinda wish it was longer but i think it's also perfect the way it is. also i loved writing seokmin he didn't appear that much in baby, be my weekend so it was fun to include him in this and show how it all started!

favorite part:

The guy Seokmin was talking to before, with the weird hair and striped sweater, holds a microphone in his hands, standing in the middle of the stage as he waits for his song to start. Soonyoung assumes that he must be a soloist or something. Probably a rookie too, if he didn’t recognise him. Or maybe he’s just unpopular. It wouldn’t be surprising.

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wow. that's a lot of fics isn't it! i can't promise how much i'll write or what i'll write in general in 2023 because i still haven't quite found my footing again but hopefully that'll change with the new year :) thank you for reading so far 💕

[dancy-nrew]

for writing prompts: a very specific idea that’s been stuck in my head the last few days is like. regency era samot hiring hadrian to be maelgwyn’s fencing tutor or smth and then developing a crush on him But. i would honestly love to read anything w the hieron pcs

"I don't know why you must observe," Maelgwyn sighs as he tugs on his fencing gloves. "You chose this man, didn't you? Shouldn't he be up to your standards?" He pulls his curls back to tie them away from his face but the gloves make his hands clumsy and Samot steps forward to assist.

"He came with excellent recommendation but I have yet to see the man work for myself." Samot runs his fingers through his son's hair, weaving it into a short braid and tying it securely. He leans forward to catch Maelgwyn's eye. "Must make sure we lose no candlesticks this time.”

Maelgwyn makes a face as he steps away to pick out a foil and Samot laughs softly. Samothes is certain that Maelgwyn is still consorting with the disgraced fencing tutor and his rowdy friends and Samot is privately inclined to agree, even if he had dissuaded his husband from looking into the matter further. The sound of Maelgwyn's ringing laughter had been so absent of late, and Samot felt it would be remiss to cut off its source.

Maelgwyn is testing the weight of swords he already knows like the back of his hand and Samot has settled in the window seat when the new instructor arrives. He is taller than Samot, though shorter than Samothes and broader than both. His dark skin glows warm in the afternoon light streaming in from outside. He carries himself formally and bows to them both and Samot thinks that he is a rather handsome man.

"My apologies if I am late," he says, looking uncertainly at Malgwyn already outfitted in complete fencing gear.

"Not at all," Samot says gracefully, stepping forward. "My son is merely impatient. You are perfectly on time." He holds out a hand and the man shakes it, grip firm and calloused. "I am Samot. Miss Triste's personal guard spoke highly of you."

"Hadrian," he says, ducking his head as if embarrassed. "Hella and I have known each other for a long time. I only hope she has not been too exaggerated in her praise."

"Too exaggerated?" Samot laughs. "So a little exaggeration is fine, then?"

Hadrian looks startled. "Uh- No, I meant-"

Samot smiles and rests his hand on Hadrian's arm for a moment. "I take your meaning. Shall the lesson begin?"

Hadrian nods curtly and takes his own gear out of the large bag he'd carried in with him. Samot retreats back to his window seat and settles in to watch. He starts them out in very simple warm ups and rehearsal of basic positions and Maelgwyn quickly grows restless.

"I'm sorry, but I am not a child," he interrupts, and Samot supposed he should be grateful he is at least trying to keep a polite tone of voice. "I know these exercises well."

Hadrian nods and smiles a little. "Forgive me. I suppose I… learned violence before I learned technique. I was a soldier first and a fencer only later. I find it helpful to remind myself of the simple motions. If you wish, we could try a bout."

Maelgwyn nods and strides to take his place, Hadrian moving in a more relaxed manner. "To five. En garde!"

Maelgwyn is an accomplished fencer, having grown up with the sport, but Samot watches rapt as Hadrian steadily denies his every attack. The large man moves with a very specific kind of grace, one that is learned and takes concentration to hold but is no less beautiful for it. Maelgwyn manages to get a few hits in but Hadrian wins the bout with relative ease. They shake hands and Maelgwyn's face is more curious than annoyed.

"Where did you learn to do that? How did you know to parry that last lunge? Why do you keep your foil tilted like that? How-"

Hadrian patiently answers Maelgwyn's barrage of questions, showing him the maneuvers in slow motion and repeating them with him until his stance is correct. Samot finds himself smiling softly, his son's enthusiasm reminding him of when the boy was young.

The lesson eventually comes to an end, even if Maelgwyn looks like he could continue to pester the man straight through the night and the next day besides. He bites his tongue, however, and shakes his tutor's hand.

"Thank you for the lesson."

"You were an excellent student," Hadrian replies, and Maelgwyn flashes a brief pleased grin. "Shall I come back next week?" He glances between Maelgwyn and Samot with another moment of uncertainty, but Maelgwyn is already nodding vigorously and Samot steps forward to shake Hadrian's hand as well.

"Please do. Shall I walk you to the carriage?"

Maelgwyn retreats to his room and Samot waits for Hadrian to pack his bag again before they stroll together through the house and down the long garden path.

"Thank you, truly, for your tutoring. With… my father being ill," Samot sighs the words, unpleasant in his mouth. "Well. Everything has been quite tense, here. Maelgwyn… I've not seen him so enthused in quite some time."

"I'm sorry," Hadrian says softly. "I wish Samol well. And Maelgwyn- he is very good. I was afraid he'd best me entirely." Hadrian laughs a little and Samot joins in.

"I'd never have guessed, looking on."

"I have heard-" Hadrian looks at Samot out of the corner of his eye and then quickly looks away again. "I've heard you yourself are talented."

"Hm? With a foil, or perhaps in other ways?" Samot smiles at Hadrian's profile, an eyebrow raised.

"With- with a foil," he stammers, then his own eyebrows shoot up. "I, uh, also I've heard you are an excellent painter, and- not just-"

"We'll have to have a bout ourselves sometime," Samot says, smiling wider, resting his hand on Hadrian's arm again as they reach the carriage. "See if the tales about me have been too exaggerated."

Hadrian looks down and huffs a laugh. "We must." He gives a short bow and puts a hand in the door. "Until next week."

"I look forward to it," Samot says, waving goodbye and meaning the words with all sincerity.

[ethereousdelirious]

I saw you're taking prompts and honestly anything with Nick Carraway would be awesome.

Thank you for the request, Anon! I'm always so surprised when I get TGG requests 😅 Never in a million years did I picture this happening when I wrote that ridiculously self-indulgent oneshot back in 2017 haha

Anyway, enjoy! If you know anything whatsoever about boats, please suspend your disbelief because I didn't bother doing any research

It was an especially hot August day. The sun beat down on the deck of the boat and sparkled on the rolling blue waves. Nick squinted and tried to pay attention, as Jay seemed somewhat stressed, but the blinding sun and rushing waves seemed to drown everything out. He caught the word "sandbar" as well as, more pressingly "stuck here," and then the conclusion: "shouldn't be too long."

The boat rolled. Nick stumbled. His forehead connected, none too gently, with Jay's shoulder as the world seemed to shudder on its axis.

"Alright?" Jay asked, placing a hand on Nick's arm.

"I don't think so," Nick said haltingly, staggering back. It was coming back to him now, little fragments of reality. He hadn't been feeling well, be it from too much sun or a sudden bout of seasickness, and he'd been just about to tell Jay so when the boat had stuttered to a halt, dead in the water.

"No?" Jay took him by the arm and guided him to a spot on the deck that was a little more shaded. With the sun almost directly overhead, it wasn't much but Nick was at least grateful that the sun was no longer in his eyes. He sat with his back against the railing, half-listening to the call of the seabirds. Had that drumming in his temples been there the whole time? He suspected so, but couldn't be sure. He felt outside his own body, a mere spectator to the events taking place within. If he really paid attention, he could discern a vague queasiness, a dull pain in his head, a floaty sort of vertigo. "You're sweating." Jay said this in the same tone he might use to announce the birth of a healthy child. As though this display of ebullience was not enough, he added, "That's good."

"Glad to hear it." Nick folded over on himself so he could braced his head between his knees. Now that he had noticed his headache, he couldn't seem to forget about it, and the pounding pain seemed to intensify every few seconds only to fall back to nothing. Like waves, he thought as the boat rose and sank. Exactly like waves.

"Where's your shirt, old sport?"

Nick didn't answer, too afraid of the exasperated edge he knew he wouldn't be able to keep out of his voice. Jay seemed to think that helping needed to be a collaborative effort, but all Nick really wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

"Alright," said Jay, rubbing Nick's shoulder. "Wait a moment, old sport."

Then Nick was alone with the squeak of the rigging and the cries of the seagulls. He knew he looked pathetic, curled up against the side of the boat like a frightened child.

At least he wasn't seasick. It was the heat, of course. He had spent much of yesterday in town with Tom. Plenty of time for pretty bartenders serving scotch and sodas, little time for food or water or much else. Then it had been straight to bed and up at dawn to meet Jay. Champagne, orange juice, hors d'oeuvres. Probably the only water he'd consumed in the last 12 or so hours had come from melted ice.

There was a sound of falling water. Nick didn't bother to look up.

"Hold still." Jay draped something cold and wet over Nick's back and he sighed, relaxing a little at the sweet, cool rivulets that ran across his body. "I'll have this shirt cleaned, don't you worry."

"You don't have to," Nick muttered, feeling at least a little acknowledgement was in order. Even as awful as he felt, he knew he owed Jay some gratitude. Possibly an apology. "I'm sorry about—"

"I won't hear it, old sport," Jay interrupted. "Now lie back." Taking Nick's shoulders, he guided him onto the deck. 

It was a slow, dizzying trip. Nick's vision flashed black and nausea spun wickedly in his stomach. Then his head touched down on something that felt soft and expensive, something that smelled like Jay. His shirt. Nick's own shirt was clammy on his back, pinned between his body and the deck. It was warming up fast, but he couldn't think to do anything about it. His eyes seemed to fall shut of their own volition and he couldn't think of a single compelling reason to open them. Not when his head ached this way, not when the only thing waiting for him was an electric blue sky

without so much as a cloud to protect him from the sun.

Jay clicked his tongue, though whether this was in thought or in dissatisfaction, Nick couldn't be sure. "I'm not done with you," he said. A warm hand found Nick's forehead, brushing his unruly hair out of his face. He hadn't bothered with pomade, knowing they were going to be swimming. This pleasant touch was followed by the frigid shock of ice water. It sent a shudder down Nick's spine even as he began to reflect on how pleasant it felt on his overheated skin. "How does that feel?" Jay asked I'm a low, worried voice. "Please let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"I feel better already," Nick replied. It wasn't a lie. Jay's careful attention had brought him some relief, but what he really needed was to get out of the sun. He forced a smile, cracking his eyes open so he could look at Jay. "Thank you, Dr Gatsby."

Nick was too dizzy to stand by the time they reached shore, though the cool evening breeze felt like Heaven on his feverish skin. He leaned hard into Jay, one arm slung over his shoulders. A wicked headache throbbed in his temples all the way down to his teeth until he was half-blind with pain and disorientation.

And through it all, Jay held him steady like he was shepherding a wounded soldier to safety, calm and resolute.

"I should call a doctor," he said once he had safely deposited Nick on one of the downstairs couches.

Nick shook his head so hard it made him feel sick. "I'll be better by tomorrow," he promised, grasping at Jay's hand.

"Then you need to drink." Jay sat him up and brought him a whole pitcher of ice water and a pint glass.

"Sit with me." Jay's face was marred by blinking black dots. Nick held eye contact anyway, probably for too long, because he blinked and Jay was beside him, tipping the glass up to his lips. "You," said Nick, once Jay had withdrawn the glass, "are a far too generous host."

Jay chuckled and, to Nick's surprise, looked slightly abashed. "Not for just anyone," he said quietly.

Through the window, the setting sun painted the sky blood red. Nick's head found Jay's shoulder. He closed his eyes.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

I literally just threw this together, so I'm sorry if it's not very good, but you deserve some cheering up and your prompt was lovely, so I got right to it. I put my own little twist on it too.

Part 21 of Jimercury Kid series

Jim wasn’t a singer by any means. He didn’t have a bad voice, per say. It was simply rough, untrained, could maybe be improved with a bit of practice but he had never cared to try. Freddie was the singer; he left that sort of thing to him.

Khaleel seemed destined to follow in his Baba's footsteps. He adored singing. He would always warble along whenever Freddie played old campy show tunes on the piano or when Phoebe stuck a record onto the turntable. Despite his young age, it was clear he had stunning vocals; very soon, Jim would be competing with two dramatic vocalists, heaven help him.

But what Khaleel appeared to love more than singing was listening to other people sing, his Baba in particular. Freddie made a point of singing to him as often as he could – when he was helping him tie his shoelaces, giving him a bath, or lulling him back to sleep after a bad dream. Khaleel would stare up at him, blue-green eyes full of love and admiration, sometimes singing along but most of the time just listening intently until the song was over.

Despite Freddie being the obvious expert, Khaleel would often egg Jim on to sing as well. His Daddy wasn’t as well versed in music as Baba was, but he did belt out a few Irish folk ballads now and then, which either had the little boy bouncing up and down to the jolly tune or slowly drifting off to sleep as he focused too hard on following the story.

Tonight, however, was different.

Freddie was exhausted, Khaleel having kept them up into the early hours of the morning with a terrible bout of flu. He had been running a fever for days and the pair of them had been taking it in turns sitting at his bedside, on standby to give him his medicine or to grab the nearby bucket if he needed to be sick. Jim had shooed Freddie back to the master bedroom, telling him to get some rest so he wouldn’t be a zombie at the studio the next day. But Freddie couldn’t sleep; his child was sick, he needed him. He’d never be able to rest easy while his baby was in pain and suffering. He would call Brian tomorrow and tell him he couldn’t go in. There was no way he could get any work done while Khaleel was in this state.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever, he gave up and trudged back to the Pink Room, ready to fight Jim should the Irishman try to send him away again. The door was open a crack, but before he could push it forward, he heard the sound of singing coming softly from inside the bedroom. It took him a moment to realise it was Jim. Jim was singing. He was singing one of Freddie’s songs.

Love of my life, don’t hurt me.

You've stolen my heart. Don’t ever leave me.

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back.

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me.

A smile crossed Freddie’s lips. It felt surreal hearing Jim singing one of his songs, albeit his own alternated version. He had heard Jim sing before, but it had never been so… authentic.

You will remember when this is blown over.

And everything’s all by the way.

When you grow older,

I will be there at your side to remind you.

How we still love you.

Jim went silent after that. Freddie pushed the door further and saw his husband sat on the bed, their son cradled safely in his arms as he sleepily nuzzled against Jim’s bearded cheek.

‘I love you so much, my angel.’ He heard Jim whisper, as he leaned down to brush a kiss against the boy’s sweaty forehead. ‘You’re my heart, my soul, and one of the greatest loves of my life. The other one is your Baba, of course.’

Freddie quickly caught the tear that fell from his eye, and gently pushed the door open to join his husband and son.

Awww I loved this! Thank you so much anon, it did cheer me up!

I have mixed feelings on LOML, because of the all the mary association in the press and the homophobes (and that god awful film) and it's a shame because it's actually a beautiful song. Lately though I've started listening to it again and now I've begun associating the song with freddie and his connection to the audience. Additionally, I'll associate this song with jim and kenny now, thanks to your little piece💙

Thank you so much for this lovely interpretation of the prompt, darling🧡🧡

(More drabbles by writer anon)

[halstudandruz]

Every Step of the Way

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Jay steps up to the plate after your baby daddy leaves

Warnings: Kinda slight smut I guess? Probably some swearing

You never really understood the hardships that could come along with being a single mother until it happened to you. You thought you and your boyfriend at the time were in a good place. No, the pregnancy wasn’t planned or anything but you certainly weren’t expecting to come home to all of his stuff gone the day after telling him. Vanishing without so much as a note. Heartbroken was an understatement. Luckily you had a great support system from your co workers at Chicago Med to your other friends from 51 and the 21st.

In the few years you had worked at Med you had grown close with all of Chicago’s finest. In particular the Halstead brothers. Will took you under his wing whenever you had first moved to Chicago and it didn’t take long for you to become close with his brother, Jay, as well. They were the first people you went to whenever Grant had left. Dialing Jay’s number as soon as you set foot in the apartment. He stayed with you that night long after Will had left to get some sleep after the shift you two had just been through. All of your friends promising to love your baby even more to fill the void. Jay in particular promising to be there every step of the way. The next couple months would be a whirlwind of an experience.

————-

“Jay, you don’t have to.” You sighed putting the groceries away.

“Yes, I do.” He stated taking the bags out of your hands and sitting you down on the stool.

“Okay first of all I’m pregnant not dying. Secondly, it’s not your responsibility.” You explained scrolling through your phone.

“You’re not going alone [Y/N].” He scolded.

“I’ll be fine. I work there. It’s not like I don-“ You began before he cut you off.

“Why don’t you want me to go?” He asked leaning against the counter across from you.

“I told you. It’s not your responsibility.” You repeated.

“And I told you that night I would be here every step of the way, and I meant it. I’m going.” Jay replied walking around to kiss you on the head heading into your living room.

————-

“How have you been feeling this week?” Natalie asked rubbing the gel over your stomach while Jay sat at your side.

“Well I-“ You began before Jay answered for you.

“She’s been having bouts of morning sickness the past 2 weeks. It’s been getting worse by the day.” He explained.

“Any pain or spotting?” She asked moving to get the wand.

“No, not-“ You tried to answer again before Jay’s voice overpowered yours again.

“She’s been having swelling and pain in her lower back but that’s normal right? Or do you think somethings wrong?” Jay answered making you throw him a glare.

“What? What’d I do?” He asked recognizing your look all too well.

“I’m capable of talking you know.” You explained.

“Sorry..” He mumbled looking away from you making you feel a little guilty for getting so easily irritated. You grabbed ahold of his hand squeezing it tightly making him throw you a tiny smile. From your other side you heart a tiny thumping making you whip your head over to Natalie.

“Is-is that…” you asked making her smile.

“Mhmm. That is the heartbeat, and here is your baby.” She smiled wide turning the monitor towards you and pointing. A mix of emotions hit you all at once. An overwhelming amount of love along with a hint of fear. You felt tears pool at the corners of your eyes trying to blink them back and swallow the lump in your throat. Getting into Jay’s truck after the appointment you were shocked into silence as he drove.

“Sweetheart. [Y/N]!” Jay shook you making you jump high, snapping out of your thoughts, “You still with me?” He asked when you turned to him.

“Yeah..sorry..I just.. zoned out there.” You answered turning back to look out the window at the buildings passing by. He didn’t comment until he pulled into your driveway putting the truck in park. You moved to get out, but he grabbed your wrist stopping you. You moved to face him a confused look on your face.

“You’re not getting away that easy. What’s going on?”

He asked knowing you like the back of his hand. You bit your lip feeling the lump form again, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm your panic. “Hey, come on. Talk to me. It’s me.” Jay grabbed your hand concern look on his face.

“I..I can’t do this. You seen how little it was. I’m responsible for a human life now. Every decision I make affects them now.” You panicked laying a hand on your stomach protectively.

“[Y/N] it-“ Jay tried to comfort you but you continued.

“I work 24 hour shifts. Babies are expensive. And what happens what they start asking about their dad? What am I supposed to say then? That he-“ You panicked feeling your breaths getting heavier and quicker, your chest tightening.

“Hey hey hey. Look at me, dear. Right here.” He grabbed your jaw for you to focus on his eyes, getting lost in the deep blue irises immediately feeling calmer, making you take deep breaths until they returned to normal. “I told you before, I'm going to be here every step of the way, and you know everyone else will too. We have your back. There will never be a more loved kid in this world and they will always know that.” Jay promised squeezing your hand reassuringly.

—————

“I’m pretty sure this is fairly self explanatory.” Jay complained helping you down on the mat.

“I never said you had to come.” You shrugged as he positioned himself behind you chest firmly against your back making you blush to yourself. As a pretty blonde girl walked up in front of you hand held out to you.

“Hi. I’m Katelynn, I’ll be teaching the class.” She smiled cheerfully. You both took her hand introducing yourselves. “So, how long have you two been together?” She asked.

“Oh, we’re not-“ You started before she held her hands up.

“Say no more. I’m sorry it’s my first time teaching I should know better than to assume.” She apologized.

“You look so young to have kids. No offense.” You added.

“I don’t actually. You think they would want someone who you know has actually had a child, but I guess being a paramedic is enough of a requirement to know all about childbirth.” She joked, jealousy pinging you as Jay laughed at her joke. “It’s nice to see you stuck around though, for the child’s sake, obviously.” She smiled at Jay, once again making you want to ring her neck.

“Oh, he’s not..” You started to explain as she shook her head.

“I’m going to go greet the others before I put my foot in my mouth again.” She laughed apologizing again, but throwing Jay a flirty smile before walking away.

“I don’t like her.” You huffed leaning further back into Jay.

“What? Why? She’s perfectly sweet.” He defended her.

“Why would they have someone teach a class they know nothing about? That’s like having me teach a geometry class. We’d all be doomed.” You crossed your arms.

“Ain’t that the truth.” He laughed making you gently jab him in his side with your elbow.

“Alright everyone we’re going to start this class out with a little competition. Dad’s come get a baby.” Katelynn ordered. Jay leaned you up enough to stand before returning back to you, baby in hand. “We’re going to see who can undress, change, and redress your baby the fastest. While also being safe and gentle.” She emphasized. All the dads got in position hurrying on the word go. You watched intently, grin on your face as Jay flawlessly finished first. “And we have a winner.” Katelynn announced after inspecting the baby.

“Hell yeah!” Jay exclaimed turning to give you a high five. You shook your head, laughing, and met his hand with yours before noticing the older couples throwing Jay a disapproving look as he mumbled an apology sitting back down behind you and turning his attention back to Katelynn as she giggled at his actions.

——————

“Are you seriously not going to tell me?” Jay huffed crossing his arms.

“I’m seriously not going to tell you.” You shrugged grinning.

“I don’t think that’s very fair.” He complained.

“I don’t think you’re the one pushing it out of your vagina.” You retorted.

“Can we at least make a deal?” He asked sighing.

“Depends. What’s the deal?” You asked propping your feet up on his lap.

“When they’re born I have to be the first one to know AND you have to tell me the name you picked out for the opposite gender.” He explained. You took a minute to think it over before before slowly nodding your head.

“I think that can be arranged.” You agreed.

—————

You were 6 months pregnant at this point and you were exhausted. You couldn’t have been any more thankful for the people in your life. Jay and Will along with some of the other guys had built your nursery for you. The girls had thrown a baby shower for you, and Jay wasn’t kidding whenever he had promised to be there for you every step of the way. If neither of you were at work there was a really good chance that you two were together. He had fallen asleep on your couch and stayed throughout the night countless times in the last few months. Taking you to doctors appointments, birthing classes, helping you through the horrid morning sickness and pregnancy brain regardless of your mood swings. You name it, he was there. You had just gotten home from your shift at the hospital and you went straight for the couch.

“What do you want for dinner?” Jay asked walking in an hour or so later like it was nothing.

“Mmm, I don’t care. Whatever you want.” You mumbled barely keeping your eyes open.

“Take a nap. I’ll figure it out.” He said covering you up with a blanket from the chair beside you. It didn’t take long at all for you to slip into unconsciousness, but you were still conscious enough to hear and recognize the sounds around you. You could hear Jay shifting through cabinets before there was a knock on the door.

Minutes later you heard Will’s voice filling the apartment.

“Why are you doing this, Jay?” Will asked.

“Doing what?” Jay asked in return.

“All of this. You’ve taken over this ‘dad’ role and it’s like you’ve forgotten you’re not actually this kid’s dad. What happens when the baby is born? You just stay here every night? That’s not practical and you’re not thinking long term. I’ve been quiet for a long time, but you need to get your head on straight bro.” Will explained his concern.

“She’s my best friend, Will, yours too. Why would you want her to have to do this alone?” You could hear the irritation and defensive tone in Jay’s voice.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Will replied.

“Then what did you mean? I’m not going to leave her to do this on her own. Especially after that jackass left. She doesn’t deserve that.” Jay sighed.

“How about you try that again, but tell me the truth this time.” Will implied.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jay huffed.

“I’m your brother Jay. I’m not an idiot. I know how you work. If you can’t even say it to me how are you going to say it to her?” Will asked.

“I literally don’t know what-“ Jay started before Will cut him off.

“Stop! Why do you always have to put up this front? Just admit why you’re doing all this.” Will pushed.

“Because she’s my best friend.” Jay stood his ground.

“Just fucking admit it, Jay!” Will yelled, his voice muffling a little from what you would guess was Jay’s hand flying over his mouth.

“Okay, Will! Yes! I’m in love with her! Why are you making me admit it? It makes no difference!” Jay yelled in a hushed tone. At the confession you suddenly felt more awake.

“Why won’t you ju-“ Will started, but stopped whenever they heard you shifting on the couch. You heard Jay sigh a breath of relief whenever you opted out of making it known you had heard it all, turning on your side to continue pretending as if you were asleep.

————-

You hadn’t questioned Jay on his confession. You were scared. Scared he would just turn around and run, and you didn’t want that. Why didn’t you want that? Because you were pretty sure you were falling for Jay as well. So, instead you kept it to yourself. Pretending like you had never heard the conversation. Things had gotten a bit more tense between the two of you since then. You had lost track of the amount of times you almost gave in to your senses of wanting to kiss him, and even though he might not have noticed it became increasing harder by the day. Today you were 3 days over your due date, and you were so done. It was in the middle of the peak of summer and you were certain if you took one step outside of your apartment you were going to die. Your ankles felt and looked like balloons and you were just ready for it to be over.

“There has to be something else.” You whined almost on the verge of tears.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I don’t know. We’ve tried everything on the list.” He sighed going over the list where you had various things marked off.

Exercise ✔️

Spicy food ✔️

Oils ✔️

Herbs ✔️

Massage ✔️

Until you had gotten to the bottom of the list. Where sex and nipple stimulation stood out checkless.

“Well...not everything…” You trailed off swallowing hard, blush heating your face.

“What? Yes we-“ Jay started looking down at the list before stopping and turning to you with big eyes. “[Y/N]? Are you being serious right now?” He croaked voice strained already.

“I don’t-I don’t know...I’m miserable and I just..” You stumbled over your words not meeting Jay’s eyes but you could feel them searching your face. Jay brought a gentle hand to your jaw turning your face so you were looking at him. “If you don’t want to I completely-“ You began before Jay’s lips cut you off with a gentle kiss. Your whole body immediately feeling like it was on fire. The kiss started gentle before turning more urgent, moving to straddle him as best as you could. You pulled away to get a breath lying kisses down Jay’s jaw to his neck.

“[Y/N]...I need you...to make sure.. you’re being...rational.. about this.. right now…” Jay rasped out between heavy breaths.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” You admitted backing up to look him in the eyes. His irises a darker blue than what they normally were. He searched your eyes for any sign of hesitation before grasping your face in his hands, pulling you back to his lips. He trailed a finger down your shoulder and arm teasingly before he moved his hand to cup your breast. Massaging it gently. You took his hand in yours guiding him underneath your shirt so your bare breast was in his hand. He used his fingers to pinch your nipple lightly rolling it between his fingers. Making you whine into the kiss before he moved to your other breast. Enjoying every minute of him playing with them. Minutes later feeling a sharp pain in your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath pulling away from Jay quickly.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jay asked concern on his face stopping his movements.

“Nothing..I’m good. Sorry.” You apologized before moving back in to kiss him. Another pain shifting through you, making you groan, hand flying to meet your stomach, and it was then that the worst possible thing that could’ve happened did. Your water broke as you were on top of Jay. The pain suddenly disappeared as you heard a loud pop seconds before a gush of water covered you and Jay. Your eyes met Jay’s in horror feeling the most embarrassed you had ever felt in your life while Jay stayed completely calm. “Oh my god…That didn’t just happen..I’m so sorry. So so so sorry.” You apologized feeling tears immediately cloud your eyes at the embarrassment.

“Honey, hey hey hey it’s fine.” He promised kissing your forehead chuckling a little, “But we have to get to the hospital, okay?” He ordered moving to help you up off of him, rushing into your bedroom. Whenever he returned he had on a new pair of jeans, your hospital bag in hand , a towel, and a new pair of underwear and shorts for you. He moved to help you strip the wet ones off, and dry you before quickly putting the other ones on.

“Can you like...close your eyes or something?” You blushed making him raise and eyebrow at you.

“We were just about to have sex, your water broke all over me, I’m probably going to watch a child come out of you in a few hours, and you want me to close my eyes to help you change?” He teased, amusement in his voice.

“Good point…” You admitted changing with his help before he ushered you down stairs to his truck calling Will on the way down.

—————-

Watching Jay stand at your bedside with your newborn baby girl in his arms had your heart beating rapidly. It was at that moment you knew you were completely and utterly screwed. You were head over heels for Jay Halstead and you had absolutely no intentions of turning back.

“So...the name…” Jay started coming to sit on the bed beside you carefully handing you her over to you. You smiled up at him enjoying the suspension he was in right now.

“You want to know?” You teased and he rolled his eyes nodding his head. “Kennedy Jaye [Y/L/N]...” You smiled down at your little girl before looking up at Jay to see his eyes clouded over.

“Are you..serious..?” He asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. Well, as long as you’re okay with it.” You added.

“Absolutely! 100%.” He smiled wide. “Did the boy name have my name in it too?” He asked after a couple minutes.

“Colton Jay.” You answered making his smirk go wider.

“We can keep that one in the hopper.” He winked making you laugh.

—————

Life had taken a turn for the best after Kennedy was born. Jay finally admitted his feelings for you and you were more than happy to reciprocate. He had been there for all of the ups and downs, by your side through it all in the last year. More than willing to take over the role of “dad” even though you always reminded him not to feel pressured into the responsibility. He truly was incredible with Kennedy and you made sure to count your blessings every day. Kennedy was in her portable crib napping in the living room as you were in the kitchen starting food since Jay would be home soon. Not long after you felt warm arms tangle themselves around your waist.

“Hi, my love.” Jay whispered laying a gentle kiss on your neck.

“Hi.” You hummed leaning back into him.

“Is my princess still napping?” He asked moving his hands to rub your shoulders as you nodded to his question. As if on cue you heard tiny cries start to come from the living room. Jay kissed you on the top of your head before going to retrieve your daughter. You turned the stove down to let the water boil walking over to take Kennedy from Jay’s arms. Once he handed her over she wiggled in your grasp, whimpering slightly, and making grabby hands at your boyfriend causing a sly smirk to light on his face.

“You don’t want mommy?” You asked frowning. She continued to whimper before whining out a quiet “daddy” leaning and reaching for Jay. Jay’s eyes widened at the word before convincing himself he was hearing things. Up until she said it again, this time louder. Registering what was happening a grin lit up his face taking Kennedy back into his arms, instantly relaxing her.

“I’m right here baby girl.” Jay assured her kissing her head, smile not even slightly faltering. “Did you hear her!?” Jay asked enthusiastically making your heart feel full.

“I did.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Looks like I’m not the only one who likes to call you that.” You winked turning to head back towards the stove.

——————

6 years later. You and Jay were married now with a newborn baby of your own, Colton Jay Halstead. Kennedy had taken on the big sister role like a champ, and as far as she knew Jay was her dad. Until the inevitable day came. You had just gotten Kennedy off the bus and you could already tell she wasn’t in her usual sunshiny mood. She wouldn’t answer any of your questions upon walking in the door. You were visibly on edge wondering what could possibly be wrong. Concerned as a mother obviously. Jay returning home a couple hours later. He found you sat on the sofa feeding Colton.

“Hi honey.” He greeted leaning down to kiss you. “Where’s Ken?” Jay asked sitting beside you, “Wait what’s wrong?” He immediately sensed your mood.

“Kennedy came home today and there’s something wrong, but she won’t talk to me about it. I’m her mom. She can talk to me about anything. She’s only 7. Why is this already happening?” You sighed not happy that your little girl was starting to grow up.

“Where is she?” He asked looking around.

“In her bedroom. Watching The Little Mermaid.” You answered. He hauled himself up from the couch, returning a couple minutes later Kennedy in tow. He sat down beside you again, placing her on his lap. She cuddled up into him.

“I hear my princess had a bad day.” Jay stated looking down at her as she just nodded her head. “Well you know we have to talk about it.” He continued making her pout stuffing her face in his neck. “Sweetheart we’re here to help.” He begged rubbing a hand up and down her back until she gave in a couple minutes later.

“Are you my daddy?” She finally asked looking at Jay. Jay looked over at you, words caught in his throat.

“Why do you ask?” You cut in for him.

“Well...the kids asked me at school today why I didn’t have my daddy or mommy’s last name. They told me I must be adopted.” She explained. Making you nod.

“Well honey first of all you’re definitely not adopted. You’re my little mini me,” You laid a hand on her cheek staring at the little copy of yourself. “But, it’s a very complicated thing to explain. The important thing to remember is that a daddy is someone who loves you and cares for you and protects you and who is always there for you. Daddy does that doesn’t he?” You tried to answer beating around the bush. You knew this would come up you just didn’t think it’d be so soon. She sat in silence thinking it over before nodding.

“Well.. can I have daddy’s last name?” She asked. You were taken back by her question a little bit and looked over to see Jay surprised as well.

“I think that’s something you have to ask daddy.” You smiled watching her turn in his lap towards him.

“Can I have the same last name as you and mommy and Colton?” She asked sweetly. You swear you could see his heart melt, tears brewing in his eyes before he cleared his throat.

“I would love nothing more.” He answered kissing her on the head as she hugged him. One day she would know the whole truth, but you were convinced when she did she would only love Jay more, just like you did.

Your life had felt so much more whole once Jay came into the picture. He gave you the love you never knew existed. Not only loving you, but Kennedy. A child who wasn’t biologically his, but was more of a father to her from the word “go” than Grant could’ve ever been. To say you were truly and completely in love with Jay Halstead was an understatement, and you would never want it any other way.

[billy-batson]

"Here's a hint: I'm not telling you" or "Alright im gonna go cry" (or combined bc that has comedic potential) with Steve-O ❤❤❤

 prompt: also asked by anon: “Alright, I’m gonna go cry” w/ Steve

pairing: steve harrington x reader

rated: t for teen

warnings: cursing here and there

word count: 2647

read it on ao3

Winter time. Winter brought three–no, four good things: holiday season, new years celebration, cold weather, and, of course, your and Steve’s anniversary.

It had only been a year (god, it felt so much longer), since the two of you had begun as an actual thing; since you had become a real couple. The start had been…confusing at first, but after the first date, things had gone smoothly for you both.

As you baked his favorite type of cake from scratch, stirring the mix together as you dropped blue  and red food coloring into the bowl, you reminisced on how you’d both gotten to the point that you were at, now–with him driving down from his university an hour away to visit you.

You had met in science class, grouped together in a lab assignment with two other people: a stoner who clearly wasn’t interested in doing anything, and a quiet, shy girl who wasn’t going to do anything. He had been working on his personal essay for university all throughout class, leaving you to be the leader of the group. 

“Okay, then,” you said aloud after five minutes of silence, the stoner staring out into space, the quiet girl looking down at the table, and Steve, who everyone and their mother knew, nearly banging his head against the table in frustration as he tried to string sentences together to make them somewhat coherent. “I’m Y/N,” you offered, attempting to start conversation among them. The silence stretched on as no one else said anything. “Alright.”

“What’s another word for ‘being a winner’?” Steve had interjected, not looking up from his paper.

“Uh…successful?” you offered, and he mumbled out a quick thanks before returning to his writing. “No problem,” you sighed, knowing that this class would undoubtedly be total and utter crap because of the group you were now forced to work with every time there’s a lab. Dandy.

“We’re uh, introducing each other, right?” Steve said, glancing up from his writing quickly, “I’m Steve.”

That’s practically a given, you thought to yourself silently, but noticed as the quiet girl began to speak. “I’m Amy,” she said softly, her voice sounding unsteady, as though she were underwater.

“Todd,” the stoner said, waving a hand, as though they all couldn’t quite see him. “Fair warning, but lunch is right before this class and lunch time is break time, so I’ll probably be a crap partner anyway–”

“Well, we’re stuck together,” Steve had huffed, “So try to…skip a day or two when we have labs, okay? Don’t think it’d be smart to lose a limb over getting high.”

Todd’s eyes widened, “We can lose a limb in here?!”

Steve gave him a shrug, “I mean, anything can happen when you’re high and working with chemicals. Could even go blind.”

“Oh maaan, really?” Todd asked, collapsing in his seat. 

Steve nodded as though this was a one hundred percent proven fact, “Absolutely,” he said, looking to you and winking. 

Winking?

You couldn’t have been sure that it had even happened until it had, but you decided not to question it. Either way, he had helped you. Even though it was in a small way, it had worked.

You’d interacted throughout the month of September and October every so often that senior year in class and during labs, but you didn’t really know him, know him. You did know that he was better at science than he was at writing, and he was actually really nice, something that you hadn’t been expecting. You didn’t really believe the rumors that the popular jock Steve Harrington had changed from how he was before, but it seemed like they were true. He had changed, and you supposed that there was Nancy to thank for that.

Nancy Wheeler was a good girl. Nice, sweet–didn’t really talk to people outside of her social circle except for Jonathan Byers who, you supposed, she got along well with because her brother was best friends with his brother. He was the only exception.

You’d had a chance to really talk to Steve alone, though, for the first time, at the halloween party. The night had still been going strong, but it had been winding down for you. You’d gone out to the backyard to get a breath of fresh air, away from the smell of sweat and teenage boys and the faint smell of vomit, and were quickly met by noneother than–

“Steve,” you’d said softly, noticing that he was seated against the side of the house, his gaze watching the blue of the pool behind the fence. “What are you doing out here?” you asked curiously.

“Oh,” he said, “Y/N. Didn’t think a party like this was your kind of scene.”

“Yeah, well…” you sighed, sitting down next to him, crossing your legs. “It’s not. But I figured hey, it’s senior year. Might as well do one of the stereotypical teenage crap adults always say we do.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked curiously, to which you chuckled and shrugged.

“Like…uh. Get drunk, go to some…party thrown by some rich girl who’s parents are away for the weekend. Dance with some boys. That kinda stuff, I guess,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Huh,” he mused quietly before turning to look at you. “And have you done it?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what?”

“The list,” he said, “The ‘stereotypical things’.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed that your mind immediately went to another matter. “uh, can’t say that I’m drunk. Buzzed maybe. The drinks here aren’t that good anyway.”

“Yup,” Steve agreed, and you glanced back at him.

“And what about you? Have you done any stereotypical teenage things at this party?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I, uh–” he laughed, the sound coming out loud and harsh, “Can’t say it’s stereotypical, but I got in a fight with my girlfriend and I’m pretty sure she wants us to break up.” He’s quiet for a moment as he realized that the words were out in the air now, and he couldn’t call them back. “So there’s that.”

“Shit,” you huffed, shifting in your seated spot. “Sorry, Steve.”

“Nah,” he waved it off. “Nothing anyone can do ‘bout it. Been a long time coming, I think.” 

You didn’t say anything, feeling as though it wasn’t your place to speak. He seemed to want to vent, in any case.

“She said she didn’t love me,” he continued, “That whatever we have–had?–is bullshit.”

Yikes.

“Jesus,” you sighed. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” he stated, “Yeah. It sucks.” He went silent for a moment and said in a deadpan tone, “I think I’m drunk.”

You laughed at that, “Yeah, I think so, too.”

He laughed along with you, almost self deprecatingly, you think, and he says, “My girlfriend probably wants to break up and here I am, drunk and laughing about it. That seems fucked up to me, is it fucked up to you?”

“Just a bit,” you tell him, a wide smile on your face. “Just a lil.”

“Christ, what happened to your face?” you questioned a few days later when you had a lab together. He had bruises just about everywhere, and you’re pretty sure that he has two black eyes.

“An asshole happened,” he huffed, almost collapsing into his chair across from you as the other students came into class. 

“Yeah, well,” you said, your tone deadpan, “You look like shit.”

“Oh, well thanks,” Steve said sarcastically. 

“Hair’s still good, though,” you say to him, slightly perplexed, “Oddly enough.”

“My hair is always good,” he told you, clearly flaunting it as he ran a hand through it, causing for you to laugh ever so slightly, shaking your head with incredulity.

“You’re an idiot, Steve.”

He had asked you out on a not-date during the thanksgiving break, inviting you out to an ice skating rink. 

“Is this supposed to be a date?” you teased him, knowing that the moment you got him to think that this was explicitly not a date would mean that you’d be able to keep your feelings for him under wraps. If he didn’t think this was a date, then you could think it wasn’t a date. Dating was complicated, and you didn’t want to make things complicated. You wanted to keep things simple, especially since he and Nancy had just broken up after nearly a year together. It’d only been a few weeks since then, and you figured that he needed longer in order to not make you seem as though you were “the rebound”.

If he was even interested in you in that way, that is.

“Pfft, no,” Steve replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He deadpanned, asking quickly, “Why? Do you want it to be? Is that what you want–”

“I’ll go to the rink with you,” you tell him before he can finish his questions, not wanting to complicate things. “You’re paying, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, and you nodded. 

“Cool!” you said, “So it’s a not-date.”

“It’s a not-date.”

Later, it turned out, that the “not-date” quickly turned into just a regular date – although neither of you had noticed it. You had had to hold his hand (clinging onto him totally in the beginning, but moving down to just his hand) in order to keep yourself from falling onto the cold ice (which you had already managed to do before an abundance of times; dragging him down with you every time). At some point, the songs that they were playing became more calm, more soothing, and before you knew it, they were playing specifically songs for couples.

Neither of you had noticed that everyone around you was a couple until you’d pointed it out, finding it odd that everyone had seemed to be in pairs–

And just like that, you fell yet again, this time with Steve landing on the ice before you, and you going down right after him. He attempted to reach out to catch you, which resulted in you collapsing onto his chest, the wind knocked out of both of your bodies as he winced.

“I am so sorry!” you said flusteredly, attempting to get up and off of him.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Steve said as you sat back on your knees, the skate only slightly digging into your back legs.

“Crap, I feel so bad,” you said, trying not to blame yourself but seriously failing. 

“Seriously, Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he stood up onto his feet, skates touching the ice once again. “I’m fine.”

You paused, chewing on your lip slightly. “Thank you,” you said in recognition of his efforts to catch you, which was at an expense to him.

“No problem,” he said.

December rolled around before you knew it, and Steve was up to something.

“Alright, what are you planning?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes as you sat with him during lunch at the local fast food restaurant.

“You’ll see,” he said, not giving away anything as he continued to write in his notebook.

“Ugh, can I at least have a hint? Something?” you asked curiously, hating not knowing about something.

“Okay, okay, here’s a hint,” he said, looking up from his paper to look at you. “I’m not telling you.”

“Steve!” you said in a clipped tone, smacking him on the shoulder gently. “You’re being dumb again.”

“Y/N, you’ll see, okay?” he said, “But I guess I can give you a little hint. I guess.”

“Okay, okay, what is it?” you asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna take my girlfriend out somewhere she’ll like,” Steve said coyly, and you felt your heart drop for some weird reason.

“Your girlfriend?” you asked, wondering when he and Nancy had gotten back together, and feeling slightly dumb that you hadn’t realized that he was dating someone before. It was dumb, but you had thought that you guys were–

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, bringing his palm to his forehead. “Crap. Forgot to ask.”

“Ask what?” you questioned.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait –” Steve said as he handed the envelope to you as you sat across from one another on his bed. “You read it.”

“Steve, you’re being a baby,” you teased him, taking the envelope from his hands anyway. “It’ll be fine, alright?”

“Yeah, but–” his face darkened with worry for a moment, and he forced a nervous laugh out. “Alright, I’m gonna go cry.”

“Alright, alright, don’t be a baby,” you said, practically tearing the envelope open. You pulled out the letter from inside, skimming past the Dear Steve Harrington at the top and searching for the magic words. As you expected, they were there. Just to mess with him, though, you looked back at him, your face falling ever so slightly. “Oh, Steve,” you said softly. 

“What?” he asked nervously. “What’s it say?” He grabbed for the letter, his eyes scanning the paper quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you said slowly, building his anticipation, “That you’ve been accepted to a nerd school!”

He looked back up at you, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Holy fuck, Y/N! Don’t scare me like that!”

You laughed, “What? I told you, didn’t I? I knew you would get in!”

“Shit,” he muttered, a breathless laugh passing from his lips. He smiled at you, now, wrapping you in a bear hug. 

“You did it!” you say, rubbing his back reassuringly. “I told you so.”

He sat back away from you for a moment before pressing his lips to yours, his warm, soft lips coming into contact with yours. Still, just like the first time, you get goosebumps as you feel that electric feeling run through your veins yet again.

“I love you,” he laughed in between kisses, “So fucking much.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you laughed with him, smiling as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. “I love you, too.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a door close shut behind you just as you pulled the cake out of the oven, your eyes lighting up as you saw who was there.

“Steve!”

He had rushed to you and you had practically jumped into his widespread arms, him spinning you around as you pressed kisses all across his cheeks.

“Ooh, I missed you so much,” you said, still holding onto him tightly as he dropped you back down to the floor.

“I missed you, too,” he said, pulling the two of you apart for a moment so that he can look at you. “I still got the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world. Everyone else is dying of envy.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him down by the lapels of his shirt so that you can kiss him, re-familiarizing yourself with the softness of his lips. You missed this. You missed kissing him, hugging him, having him close by. “I love you,” you said softly, looking up into his eyes as you pulled away slightly, for nothing if not to stare at him. It had been so long since you’d seen him – since late September, maybe? At the start of the college semester? But now, now he was here, and you were together again, just like before. Just like always.

“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face in his hands before pressing another kiss to your lips. He broke away from you for a moment to sniff the air, saying, “You baking?”

“Uh,” you glanced back to the purple colored cake which sat on the stove, cooling from having just been taken out of the oven, and you said, “Yeah. Didn’t get the chance to frost it, though–”

“No, no, we can do it together,” he said, narrowing his eyebrows as though it was ludicrous that you would do it alone.

“Yeah?” you asked, surprised at the offer. “Didn’t know that you liked to help in the kitchen.”

He shook his head, “Nah. With you, though?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d do anything.”

a/n: thanks for reading! i love him and ended up making this longer than i thought, lmao. (and i made the gif but i digress,) if you enjoyed, please leave a comment / reblog!

tagging: @donnaatroy @keithstellations @dana-in-wonderland

[pilot-of-a-cruel-machine]

(here you go @roseredsrevenge for your prompt thingy. finally got meself a laptop. all of the story is under the cut)

"Trust me on this."

Sonya slid down the wall, her heart pounding in her chest, crumpling a piece of paper in her hands.

"Trust me on this."

Her legs ached, burned. So did her shoulders. In fact, so did everything. She had liked it better when she was numb.

"Trust me on this."

She curled up in a ball and tried to calm her breathing. Around her, all was eerily quiet. She hated that. She would rather her the sounds of everything coming crashing down around her. At least then she wouldn't have the turmoil in her head.

"Trust me on this. Please."

"I-I just don't think this is smart. I mean, the odds of it turning out alright are slim to none."

"It's… a chance."

"You don't normally believe in these things."

"No, I don't. But… I believe in this one. It's this or-- or, or something. I don't know. But we're not getting anywhere."

"I.. I just don't trust it. I'm sorry. I guess you can go ahead and do it."

"I won't do it if you aren't behind me…"

"I…"

"No?"

"I… I am. I think. I'm… doubtful."

"Really?"

"Yes. Just… please be careful."

And that had been that. And Mary had been right.

Looking back on it, Sonya wasn't sure what had made her believe also strongly in this opportunity as compared to all the others. Maybe it was how specifically it was suited to her interests and talents. Maybe it was how long-term and stable the contract had seemed.

Another image flashed in her head. A stack of money and a pencil, the picture from the flyer she had spotted. Perhaps, she had to admit, it was the money.

"You're an idiot, Sonya," she hissed under her breath. That was pointless. It wouldn't solve the problems they were having now, and it certainly wasn't going to erase two weeks of stupidity. Self-deprecation wasn't the way out, either, but damn, it felt good to let the little voice in the back of her head win for once.

Way out. Think. She had to find a way out.

She slipped farther down the wall until she was practically lying flat on the ground. She was exhausted, completely and utterly exhausted. What she really needed right now was a strong coffee, or maybe a nap.

No. She sat upright all of a sudden. She couldn't forget about getting out of here. Getting out, calling the police, finding Mary -- those were her top priorities.

Then, she heard the knock on the door.

***

"Where are you taking me?" Mary asked, for what must have been the eighth time. She couldn't see, and she needed to know.

"Shut up," the man leading her growled, and Mary frowned.

"Could you at least take the blindfold off?" she asked.

The man said nothing to this. Instead, he dug his fingers into her wrist, pressing right against the bones. Involuntarily, she winced, and her hand spasmed in pain. Would the man break her wrist? She wasn't sure. He had done that trick several times now, once when she tries to pull away, and the remaining few times to get her to shut up. She had concluded she wasn't getting away, but she didn't think the blindfold was required.

When the man had come to their apartment, it had been early morning, and there was no one except Mary awake to greet him.

"You're not Sonya," the man had said when she had opened the door. He was in a thin black t-shirt and black work pants. Scars crossed his lumpy, potato-like face, his thick neck, and his muscled arms. Something bulged from his hip.

Mary had shaken her head and dropped her necklace. "N-no, why?" she had asked, looking the big man up and down.

"Collectin'," he had replied gruffly.

Mary gave him another sweeping glance. "Collecting what…?" she had asked him.

The man shook her head. "She's late. Woulda thought you'd know 'bout it."

"Late for which one?" Mary's best guess was that the man was for the landlord, the electric company, or the credit card companies, but it didn't seem professional for them to send a heavily muscled, very scarred, six-foot tall man to come for debts.

"Work."

Mary had shaken her head and said, "No, she doesn't have to go in for another couple of hours. She's sleeping right now." She pointed over her shoulder, towards the hallway. "It's too early to wake her yet. She needs her sleep."

The man seemed to smile at that, for a line cut across the boiled potato face. "Does she, now." He looked over the hallway. "Well, I think we'll leave her a little reminder for when she wakes up." He chuckled. "Yes?"

Mary had nodded. "I can tell her, or I could write her a note for--"

That was when he had grabbed her face with one hand and pulled her out of the apartment. "Have that covered, trust me," he said, slamming the door shut behind them and carting her down the stairs.

Now she was here, a blindfold around her eyes and her wrist encapsulated between the man's thick fingers, walking along a seemingly endless corridor. His footsteps echoed with the clunk of boots, and her bare feet padded near-silently on the cold tile floor. She had no idea where they were going, or even where they were, and she had less of an idea as to why.

She wasn't given much time to think on this. A door clicked open somewhere in front of her. The man dropped her hand. She twisted her head around, trying to catch a glimpse from under the blindfold. "Where--"

Her question, and her air, was cut off when the man shoved between her shoulder blades. "Climb," he grunted.

She nodded, regained her balance, and tried to make her way blind up a set of stairs.

***

When Sonya had woken up the next morning, Mary was gone. The only trace of who had taken her was a blinking light on the answering machine.

Sonya bit back her anxiety and pushed the play button.

"2304 Market. Third floor." Click.

As if a dam broke, it all came back full force.

"Oh, God, no," she breathed. "Please, God, no."

The woman on the phone line had been the same woman who had answered that day two weeks ago, when she had called for the job listings.

"Believe it or not, you're the first person to call."

"Really? I don't see why. It's a great opportunity."

"It's true, you are. Funny, isn't it? Good thing too. You'll get all the pay."

"I will?"

"Yes, of course! A talented artist like you? You'd've been paid more already. But now? All yours, my friend."

"What's the catch?"

"Maybe a little extra work. That's it, though. Well worth the salary you'll get. So what'll you say?"

"Really? That sounds--"

"Too good to be true? I can assure you, it's plenty true and all good. Trust me on this. So?"

"I'll… I'll take it."

Sonya had swallowed and shaken her head to clear the memory. She had been stupid, that was all. And now she was paying for it in that they had taken Mary. But for what? Because a few things had been late? It wasn't fair.

Complaining would get her nowhere. She should go to the police. Mary was gone now, kidnapped, and logically, that would be where she should go. It would make sense.

She grabbed her cell phone and pushed herself out of bed. She'd call as soon as she got there, as soon as she got confirmation that Mary was there. She'd been lied too before by this crew; what was to stop them from lying again?

Nothing, apparently, Sonya realized, holding the crumpled note in her hand. 6578 67th. Roof. Noon. They had tricked her into a wild goose chase, and it was already eleven thirty. There was no way she was going to make her way from Market to 67th in half an hour, and even then, it would take another ten minutes to climb the stairs, maybe six if she used the elevators. She had no car, no money for a taxi. She felt trapped her.

The knocking on the door got louder, more incessant. "Come on, Sonya. Answer me. I know you're in there."

It was the woman again, the woman without a name, the woman who puppeteered everything. Sonya bit her lip.

"You want your girlfriend, you come with me. Change of heart, you might say. Now, come on. Open the door."

She shouldn't answer the woman. Some part of her felt that automatically meant losing.

"Are you going to open the door yourself, or am I going to have to drag you out of there?"

Sonya turned away and pushed herself into a standing position, dropping the paper onto the ground as she did so. Her legs still ached from the sprint up Market Street. She had no choice.

She could always climb out the window and leave the woman without a name waiting for nothing. Perhaps it would buy her some time to get down to 67th Street. She felt like it was the safest bet.

"One."

Oh, God, she was counting. Sonya turned around and started to walk towards the window. How far was it from there to the ground?

"Two."

She quickened her pace and made it to the window. Gripping the sill beneath her fingers, she stuck her head out. Directly beneath her was a metal fire escape. Wind blew past her, whipping her hair into her eyes and making the metal staircase creak. It wouldn't be the quietest of options, but--

"Three."

It was the only option. The door clicked open, and Sonya started to climb out of the window. She was straddling the windowsill when the woman spoke again.

"Did you really think that you'd be able to get out of this so easily?"

Sonya opened her mouth to answer, but she wasn't fast enough. There was an electric buzzing, and a taser beam hit Sonya directly in the arm. Her muscles seized up immediately. She bit down on her tongue hard enough to taste blood.

The beam stopped, her muscles relaxed, and she slipped off the windowsill onto the fire escape. The last thing she heard was the clang of her head hitting the railing, and then all was black.

***

When Mary climbed out of the stairwell, a gust of cool air blew right across her face. She felt strands of hair slip out of her braid and brush against her cheek. She was outside.

Noise drifted up to her: cars honking, people shouting, dogs barking. She was on a roof.

The man shoved her shoulders again. This time, she fell, a sharp drop onto the rough, gravel covered roof. Sharp stones bit into her face and arms. She winced and tried to roll over. It hurt like God knows what.

"Get up," the man growled; at least, that's what it sounded like, at least. He had made more of a grunt that Mary had tried to put into words. He grabbed her arm roughly and tugged, wrenching her arm as he did so. She cried out in pain.

That was a mistake. The man grabbed her face with his other hand and pinched to keep her mouth closed. He pinned her arm behind her back until there was a sharp pop, accompanied by a wave of pain. "Shut up," he hissed. He was so close to her that she could taste the cigarette smoke on his breath. Meekly, she nodded. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Oh, Lord, it hurt. Make it stop hurting.

She felt herself stumbling to keep up with the man, who was now dragging her. Forcefully, she was dumped into a sitting position. For one, horrible second, she felt like she was falling.

The man grabbed her arm and straightened her. She was on the edge of the roof.

"We'll take your blindfold off soon," the man said. "And then you'll understand."

Mary shivered. There was nothing left to do now but pray.

***

Sonya came to twenty minutes later, the woman without a name standing over her, shaking her head. "You're out of time," she said, clicking her tongue. "Or you will be if you don't get up."

Sonya opened her mouth to say something. All that came out was a pained moan. "W-what do you want?" she said when she could speak again.

"You'll find out soon enough. Or perhaps not, if you don't get up. But if you stay here, you'll both suffer needlessly. And where will you be then?" The woman shrugged. "Make your choice."

Sonya sat up and a wave of dizziness washed over her. "W-why?" she stammered, pressing the heel of her hand to her eyes. "What did I--"

"Shh." The woman crouched and pressed a finger to Sonya's lips. "You'll find out soon enough, I said." She rose. "Come on. I'll be nice and drive you." With that, she turned around and walked off, boot heels clicking on the floor.

Sonya sat there in disbelief, still not quite in reality. What was happening anymore? It was like logic had dissolved through her fingers.

"Come on, Sonya. I'll be nice. Trust me on this," the woman called from the doorway.

Sonya, using the wall as a brace, slid to a standing position. She squeezed her eyes shut to try and keep her balance. When that failed, she pressed her fingers against the rough brick of the wall and lurched towards where the woman without a name was.

The woman smiled. "Hurry up now," she said lightly, as if it was just a walk in the park.

Sonya nodded and picked up her pace as fast as her spinning head could allow.

***

Mary heard the man shift next to her. "Huh. It's noon," she heard him mutter. "They shoulda been there by now."

"What happens at noon?" Mary asked, dropping her necklace from her mouth. It was too dark beneath this blindfold. She hated this

"Nothin' important."

Mary bit her lip. "What happens now?"

"You'll see. Shut up."

Mary resumed chewing on her necklace.

A few moments passed in silence, and then the door burst open. "She's here!" a woman called.

The man ripped the blindfold off of Mary, and all the light came rushing in at once.

"Sonya!" she cried, upon noticing her girlfriend at the doorway.

***

Sonya was leaning heavily on the woman without a name's shoulder, her fingers digging so deep into the woman that it must have hurt her. She felt exhausted, scared -- even so, she saw Mary across the roof, and something fresh opened inside her. "Mary--" she responded, outstretching her arm.

Mary was on her feet and looked about to run towards her, but the man behind her was shadowing her and grabbed her shoulder to hold her back.

"I-I'm here," Sonya whispered to no one.

The woman without a name laughed. "Yes, we are. But you're also late." She sighed. "Again." She shrugged Sonya off of her shoulder without a second thought. Sonya's legs gave out beneath her.

"A-again?" Sonya asked, squinting up at the woman. "What do you mean, again?"

"This man said he was collecting--" Mary began.

"Quiet," the man snapped.

"--and that you were late, but he didn't say for what--"

"Quiet!"

"Hush," the woman without a name said, waving her hand. "Both of you. I think she deserves to know."

Sonya stared. "Late…? For what…?" she asked, but the woman whirled on her, and she knew right away that that was the wrong question.

"Don't play dumb," the woman hissed. "You know exactly what you're late for. You've been late for a week now." She tapped her foot impatiently.

"For a week…?"

And then it hit her. This was about work. This was about the impossible workload that she had been practically forcefed.

"What do you mean, you can't finish on time?"

"It's… It's too much, please. Can't you extend the deadline?"

"This is what you signed up for. Didn't you agree to this?"

"I-I agreed to a little bit but not… I'm drowning here."

"You can do it. I know you can."

"I can't. I'm trying, but I just. I just can't."

"No, you can. You will. You have to. Or else."

Sonya hadn't pressed about the "or else". Now, she wished she had.

"I couldn't have," she said. "I couldn't! I was trying and-- I just fell apart. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just lighten the load, please, please I'm begging--"

The woman shut her up with a glare of iron. "And whose fault is that?"

Sonya didn't answer. She wasn't sure what was the correct one.

"It was you, Sonya. It was you and you alone."

Sonya shook her head. "But--"

"No buts." The woman without a name snapped her fingers. "Tell you what. I'll lighten the load. But!" She held up a hand. "You have to do something for me."

Sonya nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the man tightening her grip on Mary's shoulder.

"Push her off."

Time seemed to slow down.

Sonya slumped even lower than she was. "W-what?" she stammered. "Push her off…?" She trailed off into silence.

"You know." The woman pointed to Mary. "Push her off."

Sonya turned to face her girlfriend head on, meeting Mary's eyes for a second before her eyes wandered again. Sonya bit her lip. "Why?"

The woman without a name crossed her arms. "This is your or else. This is your mistake." She snapped her fingers again. "You have no one to blame but yourself. Do it."

Sonya shivered, tears pricking at the back of her vision. She rose slowly. "I-I-" she stammered, walking towards her girlfriend.

Mary looked down at her. "Sonya, what are you doing?" she whispered.

Sonya put her hand on Mary's chest. There, she stopped. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Come on, Sonya," the woman without a name said.

Sonya faltered. Her hand dropped.

"Sonya, please tell me what you're doing. I can't hear you from over there…"

Sonya sniffed. "I… I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I-I…"

Unable to continue speaking, she dropped her head against Mary's chest. Mary rested her hand on the back of Sonya's head. God, that just made Sonya want to cry even more. She couldn't just push her off the building. She couldn't do that to anyone, but not, never, could she kill Mary.

The woman muttered something that Sonya couldn't make out. "Oh, come on. It's not that hard. You've done it before," she said.

Sonya shook her head. Mary asked, "What do you mean, you've done it before?"

Sonya bit her lip. "I don't…" She trailed off, part of her remembering something, something about an accident of some sort.

"Now you've got it. So? Can't you?"

She shook her head again.

The woman gave an impatient huff. "Fine. If you won't do it, I'll do it myself," she growled.

Sonya looked over just in time to see the woman storming towards her. She sidestepped and dropped her arm, thinking that was what the woman wanted.

The woman without a name's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You didn't think it'd be that easy," she whispered.

She grabbed Sonya's hand and lunged forward. Sonya felt Mary's chest under her hand, and she wanted to scream, she wanted to fight back, but only a second later there was nothing but air, and Mary was gone.

Sonya pulled herself free of the woman's grip, leaned over the side. She clutched at the edge of the roof and tried to scream, but no sound came out, and she wasn't sure if there wasn't any or if she couldn't hear anything anymore.  

She watched Mary falling, falling, falling, her arm outstretched towards Sonya, and then she hit the ground, and her arm went limp, and she wasn't moving. Oh, God, she wasn't moving.

Sonya felt her legs go numb and the scraping brick on her knees and then she didn't feel anything except this pitiful sadness, like something had swallowed her whole. She didn't even realize she was crying until she buried her face in her arms and pulled back and it was wet. Oh, God, no. No, no, no. No. No.

She stared at her hands, trying to breathe calmly, think rationally. Yet she was the last person who had touched Mary, the last hand on her, the hand that pushed her off. Even if she hadn't been in control, it had been her to do it.

She balled her hands into fists.

There was a hand on her shoulder. "What a shame," the woman said, except her voice was different. "If only you hadn't been so foolish." Her voice was familiar. "She trusted you, you know. She trusted you with every fiber of her being -- and you betrayed her like this." The woman clicked her tongue. Why was her voice familiar? "I thought better of you." It was like she'd heard it every day of her life. "Didn't think you were so selfish. And now you killed her because of it."

Sonya plugged her ears.

"This is all your fault. Trust me, Sonya. Or shouldn't you trust me?"

She could still hear the woman.

"Look at me, Sonya."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Look at me."

Sonya gave in.

She turned her head.

She looked right into a mirror. A smiling, twisted mirror. She was staring at herself.

Her reflection patted her shoulder, flashed a larger, worse smile, and rose. "Come on. The least you can do is make amends, as best as you can right now." The woman -- the reflection -- she laughed, without any happiness. "There's nothing to fix the past…"

Sonya shivered, her eyes welling with tears. But it wasn't me, she wanted to say.

She didn't bear to open her mouth.

"Yes, yes it was," the reflection said.

***

She woke up crying.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the chair like it was her last lifeline. Blood roared in her ears with the pace of her heart. She felt completely drained of anything.

"O-oh, thank God, it was a dream," she said to no one but herself. "I-I… Oh, thank God…" She grabbed at her shirt in relief, as if to physically will her heart to slow down. "What a… relief…"

Then, she heard the beeping, rhythmic and always the same. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

It hadn't all been a dream.

She sat up straighter in the chair, looking over her shoulder. Moonlight shone from through the curtains. It must have been at least eleven at night, if not later than that. Visiting hours were over hours ago. Why hadn't anyone woken her up?

Chewing her lip, she risked a glance over to the bed. Christ. Mary was still there, asleep, just as she had been for almost two weeks now. She was trapped there, unmoving, but still alive, the doctors said, still alive, almost waiting for the right time to come back. Two weeks…

Two weeks since the accident. Since the fall. Since Sonya had taken her up there, to the stained glass clock tower, and they had sat in the window just above it, which was open, according to the guard, eating dollar store chocolate chip cookies and watching the sunset. Two weeks since something had slipped, and down Mary had fallen. When Sonya found her again, she was nearly crushed between two huge, twitching gears, and she wasn't moving.

They had been warned that something would happen. But the guard told them it was going to be safe. She'd told them about the safety precautions, and led them to the spot on the sill where they had sat, and watched the colors, safe from the rest of the world. Mary had even told Sonya it was the "perfect date".

And then she was gone.

Sonya's hands were shaking. She hadn't pushed Mary. She hadn't moved at all. And yet, Mary had fallen, and now she was in suspension between life and death, and Sonya shouldn't have brought her up there at all, really, despite being allowed, despite seeing how beautiful it was up there alone first, despite spending hours in the company of herself with a book or her sketchpad, despite the guard saying that she rarely allowed two people in there, but this was an exception, despite, despite, despite...

Sonya might not have pushed Mary herself, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was responsible for it.

She grabbed the armrest to try and calm the quaking in her fingers. She inched closer to the bed, leaning her cheek against the bed guards on the edge of it. Her eyes traced the lines of Mary's face, how peaceful she looked, despite being in a coma. She reached her hand over towards Mary's, and ran her thumb along the back. Thank God for small favors, it was still warm.

"Please, come back to me," Sonya whispered. She squeezed Mary's hand, trying to get a response. Nothing happened.

"Please, please, Mary, I-I'm sorry. I didn't know what would… If I'd… If I could have…"

She stopped, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

"I wouldn't have taken you, I-I promise, I'll never do it again, I-I just…"

She was on the verge of crying again.

"You can pick the place next time. I promise. All you. You'll come up with something nice…"

Her breath hitched.

"Please, come back to me…"

Pause.

"I love you…"

The only response was the steady beep, beep, beep-- of the heart monitor.